


I'm Dedicating Every Day To You

by Anonymous



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Alexander Hamilton is So Done, Alexander Hamilton is a Little Shit, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Attempted Kidnapping, Crack, Cute, Fluff, Gen, George Washington is a Dad, Human Disaster Alexander Hamilton, Kidnapping, Like, Sick Alexander Hamilton, Sickfic, This is the crackiest of crack, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, baby!Alex, but 🅱lease, i dont take myself seriously and neither should you, just accept my creative liberties, no beta we die like men, our boy done fucked up, what did you do this time hamilton?, y'all are coming after me for these inaccuracies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:55:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 27,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22263712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Alexander Hamilton just wanted one normal day, was that too much to ask for? He apparently pissed off the wrong person and got turned into a baby.  Now (obviously) unable to live by himself, Washington is taking care of him, which he so did not sign up for.Just one normal day, goddammit.
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton & Everyone, Alexander Hamilton & George Washington, Alexander Hamilton & Gilbert du Motier Marquis de Lafayette
Comments: 90
Kudos: 250
Collections: Anonymous, Anonymous Fics





	1. Houston, We Have A (Small) Problem

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all. Hope y'all enjoy this fic, because I've enjoyed writing this. Additional information about Alex will be at the end, if you're curious.

Alexander Hamilton woke up with a pounding headache. He couldn’t open his eyes, and decided that moving was probably not in his best interest. Trying to distract himself from the pain of what was probably a massive hangover (though the last thing he remembered was delivering his report on the effect of student debt on the economy, and how he had gotten from there to blackout drunk, he couldn’t begin to figure out), he decided to focus on the conversations floating above his head

“Oh my God, he’s so small.”

“No shit, Aaron. He’s a fucking fetus!”

“Hey, watch the language.”

“That’s fucking Hamilton, Jemmy. I’ll read the fucking Kama Sutra around him if I damn well want to-”

Alexander was beyond confused, and he was getting a little tired being out of the loop with a conversation that clearly was about him. Trying in vain to open his eyes, he gave up and decided to ask just what the fuck was going on here.

But when he opened his mouth, all that came out was a whine. No. He tried again, and he made the same noise. Oh God, he hoped no one heard that. Unfortunately, lady Fortuna did not seem to be on his side today. From above him he heard a deep, rumbling voice, and it took a second to place it.

“Be quiet, he’s waking up.” said Washington, effectively silencing the other men who Alexander had identified as Burr, Madison, and Jefferson. Fucking Jefferson.

“Alexander, son, do you know where we are?” Washington asked.

Trying once more, he was able to open his eyes. Everything was slightly blurry, and four faces loomed above his. Startled, he tried to move his arms in front of his face, and immediately regretted it.

Because those weren’t his arms. They were short and chubby, with small hands clenched into fists. These couldn’t be his, they belonged on a baby! But even as he tried to convince himself, the arms did (mostly) what he tried. For some reason, he couldn’t quite unclench his hands. Remembering Washington’s question, he turns his head to the man and puts an effort into formulating an answer in English. To his credit, he doesn’t whine this time. Instead, the noises that come out of him were nothing but a string of loosely connected consonants.

“Aw, is the great Hamilton finally unable to speak?” Jefferson taunts, smirking.

Turning his head towards the man, Alexander started shouting at him. He may not be able to form a coherent word for some godforsaken reason, but he’d be damned if he didn’t get his point across.

Instead of looking properly offended, Jefferson only smiled wider. Alexander was about to go off again, but Washington cut in.

“Secretary Jefferson, please refrain yourself from antagonizing Secretary Hamilton in his current state. Alexander, do you know why you’re like this?” Washington asked. At the look on his face, Washington sighed. “Alexander, son,” he started, ignoring Alexander’s squawk of indignation at the name, “We were here in the meeting room while you and Jefferson attacked each other. You were yelling about the college debt reform when there was a light.” He paused, looking at Alexander as if to make sure he was following what he was saying. Of course he was following, he had since day one proven himself capable of following along the most complicated conversations, and was slightly offended that Washington thought he was incapable of doing it now.

Sighing at the look on Alexander's face, he continued. "We were blinded for a moment, and when we looked back, you were, ah," he said, gesturing vaguely in his direction, "like this."

Yeah, but what was this?

Apparently realizing that Alexander still had no idea what the hell was going on, he clarified, "You're a baby."

Wait.

What. 

Surely, he misheard. He's fairly sure he just heard Washington say that he was a baby. Which was impossible, seeing as linear time didn't work that way.

But it would (somewhat) make sense. His arms, the way he couldn't talk, the fact that the four men loomed above him. Still, it made no sense. He still had things to do! He couldn't do anything like this! Finishing his proposal, writing his letter to the Swedish ambassador, sitting up. He couldn't even speak, which had to be the worst part of this. He prided himself on his ability to string together eloquent sentences, even in the most dire of circumstances. He had done it since his childhood, and it had earned him his position in Washington's cabinet. And now he couldn't even say his own name.

"Alexander?"

To his absolute horror, he burst out in tears. Why was he crying? He didn't want to cry! He was angry, not sad! He tried to explain that this wasn't him, but it only caused more unintelligible noises and tears.

Washington looked slightly panicked, and the other three looked immensely uncomfortable. He was trying to calm down, unsuccessfully, when he felt a pair of hands slide underneath his head and back, picking him up.

Jesus Christ, Washington was picking him up and suddenly he was wayyyy too far from the ground. He instinctively grabbed on to the front of his shirt. Washington cradled him, and this cannot be happening. He tries hitting his the man’s arms to get free, but his pathetic attempts were stopped when Washington grabbed his hands. Hushing and bouncing him, he somehow managed to stop the tears. How the hell had he managed that when Alexander couldn't? Stupid baby body. He tried to keep fighting but he was tired. He was tired, he was crying, and he was an infant. Great trio.

He could feel himself losing the fight against sleep. His eyelids drooped and fluttered closed the moment he stopped fighting it. He heard the four men whispering, then the conference door open and close. He'd probably regret this when he woke up, but for now he was exhausted, and it was warm in Washington's arms. As he drifted off to sleep, he wondered how he was going to survive this.

____________________________________________________________________________

George Washington had no idea what he was doing.

In his arms, he was holding his Treasury Secretary, Alexander Hamilton. Who happened to be an infant at this current moment in time. He was sleeping soundly, his face pressed against George's shirt. His cheeks still had tear tracks, but at least he had calmed down.

When Alexander had began to cry, George panicked. It was enough that he had to explain to him that he somehow now possessed the body of a 7 month old, but after he started to cry, he didn't know what to do.

Adult Alexander Hamilton did not cry in front of anybody. He got angry, he yelled, and he stormed out of rooms. But the one thing he never did was cry. George had only seen him cry once, after Eliza broke up with him. He had walked into his office to hand over some files, and there had been Alexander, tears running down his face as he stared blankly at his phone. 

George had approached him cautiously, afraid that he would snap at him. But he didn't.

"Are you alright, son?" George had asked.

The word son, which was always replied to with a short "not your son", was ignored. Instead, he blankly stared at up at George. "Eliza broke it off." He said simply, seemingly looking right through George.

George walked over to the other side of the desk and hugged him tightly. Alexander broke down in sobs, and they stayed like that for the rest of the day.

For the next week, Alexander was cold and distant. He finished all the work for the next three months, and George was pretty sure he didn't sleep at all.

They never mentioned that moment again.

Which was why George was concerned. Obviously, Alexander wasn't the same. Sure, he still had the same hair and violet-blue eyes, the same hatred for Thomas Jefferson, but he would never allow himself to show emotion like this. This left him wondering how Alex was Alex, if that made sense? How similar was this small child to the fiery young adult that he knew? And depending on how long this whatever this was lasted, he was going to need to stay with George. That was going to be awkward. 

Holding him, George also realized that among the commotion, he had somehow forgotten that Alex was still only wearing his shirt, which was about ten sizes too large. They were going to have to go shopping and get some appropriately sized clothing. George blanched at the realization that he was going to have to put Alex in a diaper. That was not going to be a fun experience. 

He sat there, cradling Alex for what only felt like five minutes but must have been at least an hour, when he began to wake. Looking down, George was able to see how he slowly woke up, blinking his large, owlish eyes. Yawning, he began to wriggle in his arms, then stopped abruptly. Turning bright red, his mouth dropped open and he started babbling.

Realizing that his current embarrassment was because he was in his bosses arms, George lifted him so he could sit on his knee. It wasn't much better, but at least now Alex was able to look him in his eyes. 

Alexander also seemed to realize his clothing predicament, and scorned distastefully at the sleeves that were almost as long as he was. Snorting at the look on his face, George leaned closer and rolled up the sleeves until his hands were visible. 

"Are you alright now, Alex?" George asked, barely refraining from calling him son.

Alex mumbled something, looking down at the ground, and George took that as a yes.

"Do you mind me calling back in Burr, Madison and Jefferson?" At the look on his face, George explained, "They may be our best clue in finding out what happened to you, seeing as they were the only others in the room where it happened."

Sighing deeply, Alexander nodded.

George texted the trio, and within minutes they knocked on the door. "Come in," he called.

Walking slowly into the room, the three men took a look at Alexander.

Alex bristled, looking at them, and George instinctively tightened the hold on him.

"You called, sir?" Burr said timidly.

"Yes. You three were the only other witnesses to what happened with Alexander, and I'm trying to figure out what happened. What do you remember?"

The others saw almost exactly what George had, only Jefferson had thrown in a few choice comments about Alexander that made the small child babble angrily at him. Jefferson only laughed, which did not help improve Alex's mood. He was sitting on George's lap leaning back against him, and George had an arm around his waist and the other was jotting down on a spare notepad what they had seen.

When Madison had finished telling his story, ending with the bright flash of light, George put down the pen and rubbed his face. God, he was too old for this. When he was elected president, he expected corrupt politicians and war threats, not de-aged treasury secretaries and apparent witchcraft. He didn't even believe in magic, for God’s sake!

Looking back up at Burr, Madison, and Jefferson, he warned them that they were not to tell anyone about this. If this got out to the news, America would be in a state of panic. 

"Of course, sir." Madison responded.

"Mr. President," Jefferson started, "Shouldn't his friends know?"

Ignoring the vigorous shaking of Alexander's head, George motioned for Jefferson to continue.

Jefferson paused, taking a moment to put his thoughts in order. "He's in constant contact with the Marquis de Lafayette, and most definitely the others. If he doesn't contact them, they'll be worried, and y'all will have a bigger problem on your hands when they find out you've been hiding this."

That was a problem George hadn't considered. Of course, he knew the other boys. He had practically adopted Lafayette, Laurens, and Mulligan. They would notice something was up once George and Alex abruptly cut off contact. And he knew Alex was still in contact with the Schuyler sisters, despite his and Eliza's breakup. Just another layer of mess to the already complicated web.

But...

George still had to run a country. As much as he'd like to, he couldn’t just quit being the leader of the free world to take care of Alex. He'd maybe get away with a week of off time, faking an illness, but then he'd have to go back. God forbid they don't find a cure, he'd have to find someone to take care of him, and he damn well sure isn't going to hire a nanny. Informing Alex's friends of his current... situation may be the best course of action.

"Of course, Secretary Jefferson. Thank you for bringing that up. I will inform them later this evening."

At this, Alex let out a long whine, clearly opposing the idea of telling his friends.

George looked down at the boy on his lap. "Alex," Another whine, "Alexander, it is necessary that more than four people are aware of your current state." The tone of his voice was clear. Don't fight me on this, you won't win.

Grumbling, he settled down again. That was the easiest he had ever gone down in a fight, and George would be lying if he said it didn't unsettle him a little. 

He didn't have time to dwell on it though, because the day was still young and they still had to go shopping for essentials.

"You're dismissed." he said to the men. Nodding, they quickly left the room, leaving it once again with only two occupants. 

Alex looked once again ready to nod off, his eyes half closed and his hair a mess. Trying to fix it, George ran a hand through his hair. And Alex gurgled. His noise of happiness was quickly overshadowed by the way he immediately turned red and tried to wiggle out of George's grasp. Instead of commenting on the frankly adorable noise that left Alexander, he chose to pretend he didn't hear it and did it again. He repeated the noise, still red in the face but he stopped trying to escape George's grasp. George continued, and Alex closed his eyes. Once his breathing had evened out, he carefully maneuvered him to where he could clearly see his face.

Eyes closed, mouth slightly opened, his hair framed his small face. To George, he looked like a tiny angel.

God, Alexander was going to be the death of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you got to the end of this, congratulations. If the formatting is weird, it's because this is my first fic on ao3, even though I've been reading on here for the last few years. Anyway, this is a hellsite to post on and it's too late for my brain to properly function. A couple things about Alex:
> 
> -He was 23, he's now 7 months  
> -For the complicated what's-going-on-in-alex's-head explanation, I'll put it simply: He does act like his real age, but stress brings out the baby emotions (ex. when he first woke up). He also has habits that I'll go into on further chapters  
> -Typically, at 7 months, babies make repeated consonant noises, can sit up, and can sometimes crawl and roll over. These are the basic baby rules I'm following
> 
> This doesn't have a set update schedule, but expect like every other week. I'm shit at deadlines, but I swear I won't abandon this or orphan it. I opened this can of worms, and now I'm going to lie in it, goddammit.


	2. The One With Diapers, Stupid Carseats From Hell, and a Target Employee Who Probably Doesn't Get Paid Enough for this Shit

George had walked onto battlefields. He had fought his way to becoming a US Senator, and had stood in front of the entire country as the leader of the free world.

None of that felt as daunting as standing in front of this Target entrance.

Holding Alex, he took a deep breath and stepped through the automatic doors. He was instantly hit with a wave of air conditioning as he made his way to the side, where the carts were. Grabbing one, he wheeled it out of the way.

"Alex, do you want to get in?" He asked.

Conflicted, Alex looked between the cart and George. Letting out a small sigh, he pointed at the cart. George moved him into the small seat, careful to make sure the oversized shirt covered him. As George tried to buckle him in, though, Alex protested. He kicked his feet and glared up at George, obviously not wanting to be strapped in.

"I have to. Your too small, you'll fall right through the bottom."

Looking unhappy at the reminder of his current size, Alex continued to protest.

George rubbed his face. Of course the most stubborn member of his cabinet got turned into an infant. Why couldn't it have been Burr, the man never seemed to have any opinions about anything. Trying once more, George said, "Alex, the longer we take, the more likely it is that someone will recognize us. Now either you let me strap you in, or we argue here until someone wonders what the president is doing with a baby that looks strikingly similar to the current Treasury Secretary. Your choice."

Continuing to glare, Alex stopped kicking his feet. George quickly snapped the buckle, and moved into the store. They walked towards the side of the store, where the baby aisle was. He still had to go grocery shopping, but Alex was undressed and he figured that it would have to wait until a later date.

As soon as the stepped into the aisle with the toys, Alex's eyes grew wide. George chuckled, watching how Alex seemed to be fixated by the bouncer on the top shelf that had bright, flashing lights and was playing some sort of nursery rhyme. He wheeled them through the aisle and into the next, which contained the essentials. Alex broke out of his trance and looked at the items around him with disdain.

While Alex was looking at the pacifiers like they had personally wronged him, George took the opportunity to grab a box of diapers. If Alex had seen them, there would be a fight, and he just was not up for that. Alex was going to need them, and he'd rather have that argument at home rather than in the middle of Target. He grabbed some wipes, a changing mat, and baby powder before going back into Alex's field of vision. 

Alex tried to turn his head so he could see what George had put in the cart, but couldn't. Sighing in defeat when he couldn’t, he watched George grab formula off of the shelf. 

As soon as he began to protest, however, George cut in. "Son, you can't sit up by yourself. I highly doubt that you'll be able to eat anything more solid than this." Ignoring the grumbling coming from his charge, George continuing to grab things off the shelf. He got bottles, bibs, and baby wash. Making sure Alex was facing the other way, he took a two-pack of pacifiers. Who knew when those might come in handy. Looking around, he wondered what else he would need. God, he wished Martha was here. She had experience with this sort of thing. Unfortunately, she was currently in London visiting some old friends. He'd tell her about Alex at some point, but he knew that if he told her she'd cut her trip short. She was due to come back in two weeks anyway, and he could handle this until then.

After getting supplies, the only thing that they needed was a carseat and clothing. Wheeling the cart into the next aisle, George took a look at the options and could immediately see a problem. All of the clothes were _very_ cute. Almost everything had some sort of dinosaur or cartoon character printed on the front, and at least half had something along the lines of 'Ladies Man' or 'My Mommy Loves Me' written on the front. Not even bothering to make noise this time, Alex looked deadpan at George.

Yeah, no. Even if George was going to force him into a diaper later, George wasn't cruel enough to force Alex into a onesie that had 'My Mommy Is A M.I.L.F.' printed on it. It just... no.

Looking for the least heinous ones, George dug around until he came up with a couple pairs of grey and green onesies, a few pairs of socks, some pants, and a pair of shoes. George was going to need to leave the house at some point, and Alex needed to look presentable.

Alex looked happy, or at the least resigned with the choices. Taking this as a win, George moved on to find a carseat. The only problem with that was he had no idea how to choose which one. Luckily, one of the store people came over to help.

"Hi! Can I help you find anything today?" She asked. She looked young, probably a college student. George wanted to say no, but he was completely lost on how to choose the right size. "Yes, thank you. How do you choose the right carseat?"

"Of course. Can I see him?" she asked.

George stepped out from in front of the cart and she walked up. "Hi there!" she cooed. Alex looked thoroughly unimpressed. "He's adorable!" she said, turning back towards George.

Between the genuine happiness on the employee's face and the miffed look on Alexander's, it took everything in his power not to start laughing. Deciding to play along, he said, "Yes he is." Glancing at Alex, he saw the look of betrayal on his face.

"Well then," she continued, standing up straight again, "How old is he?"

George took his best guess. "Seven months?"

Walking towards the middle of the aisle, she motioned to the carseats. "Alright, these are the ones that you're looking for. They are supposed to face backwards until they turn two. Once they hit two, you can turn it around. This one," she pointed at a grey one, "Has the best reviews. It doubles as a carrier."

"Thank you so much." George said, reaching for the one she pointed at.

"No problem! He's very cute!"

Looking at Alex, George could see that if he had been grown he would have tried to fight her. "Thank you." He said again. She turned and left the aisle, probably looking for another customer to help. At the betrayed look on Alex's face, George snorted. He made space in the basket and placed the seat down. "Alright Alexander, let's check out and get you back to my home. We've still got to put in the carseat, but that shouldn't be too hard."

-

Oh, how he was wrong. The carseat took a good thirty minutes to get in, despite the box allegedly saying that it had easy installment. He wrestled with the damn thing, getting pinched and _somehow_ burned.

Alex was watching from where George had put him in the backseat. George could hear him talking to himself while he put the seat in, and heard him giggle when the entire thing fell out of the open door. Eventually, he was able to get it in correctly. He had buckled Alex in, and they made their way back to George's house.

That's where they were now. George had placed Alex on the couch and gave him a stuffed dog he had found in the corner of the linen closet. He had looked offended by it at first, but was now trying to get a good enough grip on it to hold it above his head. While he struggled, George set out the things he would need to change him. This was _not_ going to be a great experience.

George braced himself for an argument, knowing that this would be infinity more embarrassing for his young secretary than it would be for him. He had taken care of young children before, even though he had none of his own. Jacky, Patsy, and occasionally one of Martha's friends grandchildren. He had changed numerous diapers, and it no longer fazed him. But that would not be the case for Alexander. Even though he was trapped in the body of an infant, he still had the mind of an adult. This was going to wound his pride, and George knew it would be better if they did this sooner rather than later, a way of ripping of the band-aid. Besides, it would be worse if they waited and there was an... accident.

Turning towards where Alexander was lying, he watched for a moment. He was still trying to pick up the toy dog, gripping it around his neck. However, his small fists couldn't properly hold on, and Alex would be able to hold it up above his face right before he dropped it. Sighing, George decided to deliver the news.

"Alex, we need to get you into proper clothing." George said.

The look on Alexander's face was what he expected. He looked indignant at the prospect of George changing him. Trying unsuccessfully to turn onto his stomach, he started trying to argue. Well, George thought, might as well inform him of the rest. "I also need to put you in a diaper."

If George hadn't had years of practice as a politician schooling his face, he would have burst out laughing at the look on Alex's face. He looked positively HORRIFIED at the fact. If he had been protesting before, it was nothing compared to the noises he was making now. He was practically screeching, his words made even more unintelligible by the noise. He was vehemently shaking his head, and doubled his efforts to turn over, presumably so he could make an escape attempt. Walking over to where Alex was laying on the couch, George reached down and picked him up, propping him against his hip.

"Alexander, we both know that wearing a diaper will be less of a hit to your dignity than having an accident."

Turning even more red, Alex finally stopped trying to worm out of his arms. Thank God, too. If he had fought him through the process, it was going to make it ten times as hard as it needed to be.

Walking to the living room, George set Alex down on the floor. He began to unbutton the shirt, and Alex decided to just close his eyes and try to pretend this wasn't happening.

-

Three minutes later, Alex was wearing clothes that were actually made for someone his size, and not ones that made him look like John Mulaney in an XXL t-shirt. He still wouldn't make eye contact with George, which amused him to no end. Depending on how long this was going to last, he was either going to get used to it or be mortified. Suddenly, he realized that at some point in time Alex was going to need a bath. He blanched at the thought of how that conversation was going to.

His inner monologue was interrupted by Alex's stomach rumbling. Suddenly, it occurred to him that Alex hadn't eaten since the beginning of this whole fiasco, and he barely ate enough to survive when he was full sized.

Once again picking Alex up, he carried him over through the living room and into the kitchen. Holding Alex with one arm and grabbing the ingredients with the other, George set about making his formula. Reading the back of the box, he started heating up the water.

Looking down, he saw how tired Alex looked. His eyes were drooping and his head was nodding. He looked about five minutes away from passing out, but George was determined to get at least some food into him before they went to bed. Pouring the water into a bottle and adding in the powder, he shook the bottle well. Adjusting his grip on Alex so he was cradling him, he put the bottle at his lips.

Alex, now aware that he was being fed, looked a little more alert, moved his hands to try and grab the bottle.

"Alex, you couldn't even hold the stuffed animal. Just let me do this."

Seemingly too tired to fight him, Alex conceded with a small glare. He moved his hands back, and opened his mouth. He sucked on the bottle, and his eyes fluttered closed. George took a seat, and five minutes later he was holding a sleeping baby and an empty bottle.

Standing up, careful to not wake Alex, George slowly carried him towards his room. Climbing the stairs and pushing open the bedroom door, George was conflicted. He knew that if Alexander were awake, he would fight tooth and nail (quite possibly literally) against sleeping in George's bed. On the other hand, if he woke up in a new place, with no one that he knew, unable to sit up, that would probably be worse. Sighing (he seemed to be doing a lot of that today), he walked to the bed and carefully set down the sleeping boy. Remembering from some childcare book he had read, he laid him down on his back and moved all of the blankets from the bed. Once certain that he was safe, George went into the bathroom to get ready for bed.

When he walked back into the room, Alexander was once again awake. Maybe awake wasn't the right word, more like conscious. He was bleary eyed, and had his fingers in his mouth. He had once again rolled over onto his stomach. When George walked in, he shifted his gaze from the lamp on the bedside table to George.

"What are you doing awake, Alexander?" he asked softly, not wanting to wake him any more.

Alexander mumbled quietly, continuing to stare at George. 

Carefully, George made his way over to the bed. Turning off the lamp, he slid under the sheets, doing his best not to disturb Alex. He turned his head to see if Alex had fallen asleep again.

Alex was still staring at George, but it was as though he was looking right through him. George shifted so he was on his side, and that seemed to catch his attention. Reaching out with one hand, the other still in his mouth, he made a grabbing motion.

It took George a moment to realize what Alex wanted. Tentatively reaching over, he slipped his hand underneath Alex's head and stomach and brought him closer. Seemingly happy with it, Alex snuggled closer to George's chest and fell back asleep. His breaths came out in little puffs, and his heartbeat was rapid compared to George’s. Taking the first moment of complete calm since that morning, George contemplated what came next.

He had to inform Alex's friends of what happened tomorrow. Alex hated the idea, but George knew that he was going to need all of the support that he could get. He had met the other three, and knew they wouldn't taunt him for his situation. They might even be willing to take Alex some days, because as much as he would feel more comfortable with it, there would be no way he'd be able to take off however long it would take for Alex to get back to normal size. Those three were his best bet at hiding what had happened from the public. That led him to the Schuyler sisters. Even though their breakup had been slightly messy, Alex and Eliza were still on good terms. He was still in contact with the other women, Angelica and Peggy, and he knew they met every Saturday for coffee. They probably had to know too, because they were intuitive enough to realize that something was off. That gave him a total of nine people he could trust with this, including the three that had been in the room where it happened. However, George was too sensible to think it was going to be that easy. The news were vicious and would stop at nothing to start a scandal. Hell, there were probably stories floating around with pictures from their trip to Target that morning, claiming that Alex was his illegitimate child. Which was ridiculous, seeing as he had already told the press that he was unable to have children. But since when have facts ever mattered to the news?

Looking down at the sleeping child in his arms, George finally got a moment to study him. Alex looked so much more peaceful like this. His mouth was slightly open, his breaths coming out in small puffs. He had two fingers in his mouth, which seemed to be a habit that George was going to have to figure out how to fix. He was always trying to crawl, and he wasn't sure if he was going to be able to deal with a sick Alex. The dark circles beneath his eyes were gone, and that alone made him look years younger. He was curled up against his chest and all the tenseness was gone from his body. It was in that moment that George knew he would do everything in his power to protect this boy. He had always tried to, tried to let Alex know that he was there if he needed him, but he always brushed him off, resolving to instead bury himself deeper in his work. In his current state, however, he was unable to do that. He needed someone to be able to take care of him, and George was more than willing to step up to the role. He vowed to himself that he'd never let his boy get hurt.

Now, if they could get through the next day, that'd be great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't know what i'm doing with my life. all i know is that violets are not blue, our government is a failure that is run by the big businesses that do nothing but help the rich get richer and the poor get poorer, and i'm not at all prepared for the tests i have tomorrow.
> 
> on another note, if y'all have something that you want added into this story, leave a comment. i'm a slut for feedback.
> 
> on another other note, if y'all want great alexander angst i can recommend some. i have no idea how i'm writing fluff right now, seeing as all i read is whump and angst. and in a few chapters, you're gonna see how that angst tag comes into play. i'm not above hurting a child, ho


	3. What the Hell Peggy?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It takes a lot of brain to make the words go

George woke to sunlight streaming in through the open curtain. That was odd, he never slept this late. As he started to move, he remembered his reason for still being asleep. There was a small warmth on his chest, and when he looked down he saw Alex curled up with one hand clutching his shirt and the other in his mouth. The sunlight softened his features, and he was completely relaxed. He reached for his phone on the bedside table where it was charging. Unlocking it, he took a picture.

Careful not to wake him, George slowly extracted himself from Alex's grip and went into the bathroom to prepare for the day. He decided to stay in his pajamas, because there weren't many times where the president can not care about his appearance, and today was one of those rare days.When he came back out, Alex was still asleep.

"Alex," he whispered, gently prodding his shoulder, "It's time to get up."

Alex slowly opened his eyes, yawning and rubbing his eyes. He started to turn over, but stopped. Wriggling uncomfortably, he looked at George. Realizing why, George reached down and picked him up. Going over to the dresser, he pulled out the changing supplies. Alex must have still been out of it, because he didn't try to fight. His head was laying on George's shoulder, and his fingers were in his mouth. George grabbed his hand and gently moved it away. He set down the mat on top of the dresser and set Alex down on top.

Once he was done, he set Alex down on the bed. He looked at George sleepily as he put away the mat and wipes, then lifted him up. Carrying him out of the bedroom, he walked downstairs and to the front door. The furniture he had ordered last night should be there today, and he'd prefer having Alex in a highchair than his carrier. Sure enough, when he opened the door there were boxes on the front porch. Still holding Alex with one arm, he bent down and dragged them just over the threshold. Alex looked curiously at the boxes.

"Some things we couldn't get yesterday." He explained.

Going into the kitchen, he put a skillet on the burner to heat up and set Alex in the carrier. "I'll be back in five minutes. I have to set up the highchair." Ignoring Alex's offended face, he grabbed a pair of scissors and went back to the doorway. Opening the box that had a picture of a highchair printed on it, he got to work.  
\----------  
Ten minutes and a good portion of George's sanity later (why on EARTH was baby furniture so hard to assemble?), he finally had it put up. Carrying it into the kitchen, he set it down next to the carrier. Alex was now talking quietly to himself. "What are you saying?"

Alex opened his mouth to respond, but closed it with a sigh. He shrugged instead.

"Well, I'm going to make eggs. You should be able to eat those." After he put eggs on the hot skillet, he took Alex and put him in the new highchair. "This'll be easier for both of us."

He took some of the scrambled eggs and put them in a bowl. Setting them down on the tray attached to the chair, he tried to feed Alex. Alex, however, had other plans. He grabbed the spoon out of George's hand, and managed to get some eggs on the spoon and into his mouth.

"Alright, you can feed yourself. I have to go inform your friends of your... situation. What's your password? Wait, you can't answer that." George went into the living room, grabbed Alex's phone out of the pocket of the jacket he had been wearing yesterday, and returned. Holding out the phone, he said, "Type it in."

Alex got it after a couple of tries, his hands being too uncoordinated to control easily. George took the phone (the password was 1776) and went to sit on the couch in the living room.

Opening his contacts, George scrolled until he found one called "Depressed Bastards Unite", figured it was probably not a work colleague, and tapped on it.

 **AdotHam:** This is George Washington. I need to tell you three something.

 **iliekturtles** : o shit

 **FightingFrenckFuck** : We're in trouble

 **iliekturtles** : wait

 **iliekturtles** : how do we know this isnt alex

 **horsefucker** : it cant be

 **horsefucker:** he wouldnt use capitalization and Punctuation If it killed Him

 **AdotHam:** Why are you capitalizing random words?

 **horsefucker:** because sometimes i Feel motivated 

**AdotHam:** I'm not even going to ask about the name

 **FightingFrenchFuck** : That would probably be best mon amie

 **iliekturtles:** why do u have alexs phone

 **AdotHam:** There's been a situation.

 **horsefucker:** is alex ok?

 **iliekturtles** : ?????????????????????????????

 **FightingFrenchFuck:** You don't get to say that then not answer

 **AdotHam:** Give me a second, I'm trying to figure out how to explain it.

 **iliekturtles** : ‽‽‽‽‽‽‽‽‽‽‽‽‽‽‽‽‽‽‽‽‽‽‽‽‽‽‽‽‽‽‽‽‽‽‽‽‽

 **AdotHam:** Alex made the wrong enemy, apparently

 **horsefucker** : IS HE DEAD

 **FightingFrenchFuck** : ANSWER US GEORGE

 **AdotHam:** No!

 **AdotHam:** He's technically fine

 **iliekturtles:** tf u mean technically

George decided to send the picture that he had taken that morning.

 **AdotHam:** _Image Attached_

 **horsefucker:** youve Got to be fucking With me

 _ **i**_ **liekturtles:** is that alex‽

 **AdotHam:** Unfortunately, yes.

 **iliekturtles** : alwx is an adily he is not a baby i donth know what drugs ur on but alex is 5'3 feet of unbridled rage

 **horsefucker:** for the Love of god john Turn ur autocorrect back on

 **iliekturtles** : nver

 **FightingFrenchFuck** : How did this happen??

 **AdotHam:** I don't know

 **AdotHam:** He was arguing with Jefferson, then there was a light and now he's like this.

 **FightingFrenchFuck** : So how many people know?

 **AdotHam:** Me, Jefferson, Madison, and Burr

 **iliekturtles:** ha its and i u did it wrong

 **horsefucker** : no the fuck its Not wtf

 **AdotHam:** I just told you three, and next I'm going to tell Angelica, Eliza, and Margarita Schuyler

 **horsefucker:** ohhh dont Call her that

 **AdotHam:** ?

 **iliekturtles** : peggy wilk fcuk u up if u call her margarita

 **AdotHam** : Duly noted.

 **FightingFrenchFuck** : So, is he like entirely un bébé or what

 **AdotHam:** It's complicated. He's like halfway?

 **iliekturtles:** explain

 **AdotHam:** He recognizes everyone and obviously is still as smart but he's more emotional and he has some baby habits.

 **iliekturtles** : oooh spill the teaaaa

 **horsefucker:** hes Like 40 he doesnt Know what that Means

 **AdotHam:** You can't make fun of him.

 **FightingFrenchFuck** : We would never

 **iliekturtles** : cross my heart and wish i was fucking dead

 **horsefucker:** thats not The goddamn saying Johnathan

 **iliekturtles:** ask me???? if i??? give??? a motherfuck????

 **iliekturtles:** and call me johnhathan one more ime and i will replce ur spinal fluid with bleach try me ho

 **horsefucker:** oh yeah gwash We wouldnt dream of it

 **AdotHam:** Good.

 **AdotHam:** He can't keep his eyes off of lights. We were in Target and he was transfixed with the light-up baby toys

 **AdotHam:** He's also sticking his fingers in his mouth.

 **horsefucker** : im Crying he loved the baby toys???

 **iliekturtles:** tihs is the best fucking thing that ever happened ikm dying

 **FightingFrenchFuck:** Can we see him???

 **AdotHam:** That's why I'm texting you. I can't take off more than a few days, and I have no idea how long this is going to last. I need someone to watch him the days I can't.

 **FightingFrenchFuck:** We'd be honoured

 **iliekturtles** : its honored u sttupid socialist

 **horsefucker:** yeah, we'll watch Him. he cant Be much worse than he was before

 **iliekturtles:** yeah at least this time he takes naps

 **AdotHam:** Thank you so much. I have to back in 3 days. Is it alright if I take him over before so I can talk some things over with you?

 **FightingFrenchFuck:** Mon home is la meilleure for a baby, he can come over here

 **AdotHam:** Is tomorrow ok?

 **FightingFrenchFuck:** Thats good for me

 **horsefucker:** im Down

 **iliekturtles:** sure wht not

 **AdotHam:** I can't thank you enough.

 **FightingFrenchFuck:** Our pleasure

 **iliekturtles:** w a i t

 **iliekturtles:** is he in a diaper

George decided not to answer that. He'd see soon enough, and Alex probably would want to leave that detail until he was over there. He was glad that they had agreed to watching him. If they hadn't, he didn't know what he would end up doing. 

His own phone buzzed. Pulling it out of his pocket, he unlocked the screen. It was Jefferson who had texted.

 **Sec. Jefferson:** We have a problem.

George resisted the urge to bang his head against a wall. Since when hadn't they?

 **POTUS:** What is it?

 **Sec. Jefferson:** Hamilton has never taken a day off of work. Remember that time he collapsed with pneumonia in the middle of his horrid debt absolvement plan?

Of course he remembered. Alexander had looked horrible that week. He was pale and shaky, but he refused to go home. Then he had proceeded to collapse mid-argument, which seems to be a recurring theme. He'd been diagnosed with bacterial pneumonia, and been admitted for a week.

 **POTUS:** How could I forget.

 **Sec. Jefferson:** Well, people are bound to notice if he doesn't show up.

Shit, he was right. Maybe most wouldn't but the cabinet would definitely.

 **POTUS:** What do you propose?

 **Sec. Jefferson:** We have to tell the cabinet. If not, it'll just look suspicious.

 **POTUS:** That'll go over well.

 **Sec. Jefferson:** Maybe bring him with you. Visual proof and all that.

That could work. There was little to no chance of them believing him if he didn't bring some form of proof. They'd impeach him before he could even finish his sentence on the terms of insanity.

 **POTUS:** Thank you for reminding me of this.

 **Sec. Jefferson:** Good luck, Mr. President.

He turned off his phone and contemplated what to do. He could tell Alexander that he was going to have to show his current state to his colleagues, or he could just take him to the White House and let him find out then. That was the most likely option. He didn't want to tell his closest friends, there was no way in Hell that he was going to convince Alex to face his enemies like this.

He put that problem to the side for the moment. He still had the Schuyler sisters to tell. Typing in Alex's password again, he scrolled through his contacts until he found a group chat that had them.

 **tired &angry:** This is George Washington. I need to talk to you three.

 **Angle:** Is Alex alright?

Learning from his mistakes, George decided to just send a picture.

 **tired &angry:** _Image Attached_

 **Elizard:** cute baby??

 **tired &angry:** That's what I need to talk about.

 **Angle** : Is that a coworkers kid?

 **Elizard:** does alex have a secret child

 **peggylicious:** is that alex who somehow got turned into a baby but still has his mental age and is now under your care until you can figure out how to reverse this and in the meantime you're texting his friends because you need a way to take care of him

 **tired &angry:** I-

 **tired &angry**: How?

 **peggylicious:** wouldn't you like to know weatherboy

 **Elizard:** wait she's right??

 **tired &angry:** Unfortunately.

 **Angle:** how?

 **tired &angry:** I have no idea.

 **tired &angry:** I knew that you three would be able to tell something was up

 **peggylicious:** thats how the mafia works

 **Angle:** Can we see him?

 **tired &angry:** I'm taking him over to Lafayette's place tomorrow. Do you want to meet up after?

 **Elizard:** i'm free. we can come to my place, bc he knows it

 **peggylicious:** im coming too

 **Angle:** You have school

 **peggylicious** : ur not my dad!

 **peggylicious** : stupid ass noodle head

 **Angle** : Fine.

 **peggylicious:** yeehaw

 **Elizard:** would six work

 **tired &angry:** That'd be great. I'll see you tomorrow.

 **Angle:** Good luck

 **Elizard:** yeah, you have my support

 **peggylicious:** see you space cowboy

George locked the phone and placed it back on the couch. Well, that was one thing figured out. How Peggy had known, he didn't want to know. That girl scared him.

He made his way back through the living room and into the kitchen. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Alex.

He was sitting in his seat, looking dejectedly at his spoon that was now on the floor. He was covered in eggs, and George wondered if any had made their way into his mouth. He had it on his hands, in his hair, and somehow on his feet. His bowl was empty, and he was swinging his legs idly.

"Alex, how on _earth_ did you manage this?" George asked incredulously.

Alex's head shot up when George spoke. He immediately started gesturing to the spoon under his seat and babbling angrily.

George sighed. He walked up to Alex's chair and unstrapped him. He lifted him into his arms and started towards the stairs. "Bath time."

At these words, Alex started twisting in his arms. He hit his chest and struggled to get away.

"Alexander, it was going to happen at some point. Now that you're _covered_ in your breakfast, which I still understand how you did, you kind of have no other choice."

Pouting and glaring up at George, he stopped trying to worm his way out. George carried him up the stairs and into the bathroom. He paused to grab the baby soap that the had bought and set Alex down in front of the tub. He started running the water, and reached to take off Alex's onesie. However, Alex hit away his hand, red in the face. 

"I've already seen you naked, Alexander, just let me." He continued unbuttoning onesie. When Alex was in only his diaper and looking very unhappy at that fact, he turned off the water. He laid Alex down on the mat and removed his diaper.

Carefully lifting a beet red Alexander into the bath, he reached for the soap. He scooped up some water with his hand and poured it over his hair. Pumping some soap onto his had, he gently massaged it into his hair. He felt Alex relax slightly. He put his hand over Alex's face, and Alex made a surprised noise. "I need to rinse out the soap." He explained. With one hand covering Alex's eyes, he used to other to pour water over his hair. Once his hair was soap-free, he grabbed a washcloth and put soap on it. Alex saw what he was doing and groaned.

"It'll be over in a few minutes then you can get out." He gently started to wash Alex's back and shoulders. When he started to was his stomach, Alex grabbed the washcloth. He looked pleadingly at George and he let go of the cloth. He'd spare Alex that indignity and pick his battles elsewhere. Alex finished washing and George pulled the plug. He grabbed a towel out from under the sink and wrapped him up in it. Lifting him out, he brought him out of the bathroom and into his room. Setting him down on the bed, he turned to the dresser and took out clean clothes and a diaper.

"So, we're going over to Lafayette's and Eliza's house tomorrow." He said, removing Alex's towel. At his look of confusion, he explained, "They want to see you. I need someone to watch you on the days I can't, and I trust them." He finished dressing him, and picked him up. "Now we don't have anything else to do today. It's been a while since I've relaxed and watched a movie. Do you want to?" When Alex shrugged, he snapped the last button and carried him downstairs.

Sitting on the couch with Alex on his lap, he scanned through movies until he came across Moana. He hadn't seen it yet, and figured that the animation would be able to distract Alex enough. He put it on, putting his arms around Alex's stomach and leaning back. At first, Alex was trying to appear uninterested. But by the time she was trying to pass the reef, he was riveted.

By the end, Alex was fast asleep. It was only three, but George figured naps were a part of the baby experience. Carrying him back up to the bedroom, he set him down on the bed. Alex curled up, and the way his hands curled into fists by his face only enhanced how small he looked. Silently walking out the door, George went into his study. While Alex slept, he could do some paperwork. He hadn't lied about having nothing important to do today, but by getting some work done he could clear his head. When Alex woke up, he'd make dinner and put on another movie. But for now, he was going to enjoy the calm. Something told him this would be the last calm day for a while, and he wanted to enjoy it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of the fic writers whose works I love have left a kudos and??? I'm so happy im about to kashoot myself yall its so great


	4. Yes, Eliza's Dress Has Pockets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, I've been working on other fics and it took a three-a.m. revelation to know where this is going. I have the next three chapters outlined, two more fics halfway finished, and English homework that I've still yet to do.

Carefully unbuckling Alex from his seat, George picked him up with his left arm, the right being used to sling the diaper bag over his shoulder. He shut the door and made his way up the driveway and to the front door.

Standing there in the doorway was Hercules, John, and Lafayette. They were all staring at Alex as they came closer to the door.

“George! How good it is to see you.” Lafayette exclaimed, opening the door and motioning for them to come inside.

“You too. It’s been too long.” George answered, removing his boots. He then set the bag down and used his now-free hand to remove Alex’s shoes.

John looked like he was about to explode with laughter. “Glad to see you’re here too, Alex. You look a bit different from the last time we saw you.”

“Have you lost some weight?” Hercules teased, stepping forwards towards him and gently poking his cheeks.

Alex looked thoroughly unamused.

“It is nice to see you gentlemen again, but we have to be at the Schuyler’s by six and it is currently,” George looked at his watch, “Three. We really need to go over the essentials while we’re here.”

“Of course, G. Wash. D’you want me to take him?” John asked.

George reluctantly handed him over, ignoring the betrayed look on Alex’s face. John set him on his hip, and bounced him slightly. Alex looked startled at the movement, but relaxed a moment after.

Making their way into the living room, they all sat down. George was sitting on the armchair, Lafayette and Hercules were leaning against each other on the couch, and John set Alex down on the rug before he sprawled out over the loveseat. George reached into the bag and pulled out a random book he had grabbed off the shelf at the last moment, realizing that having something to distract Alex with would be best in getting what they needed done.

“So…” John started, looking at Alex who was now struggling to turn the page.

“We should probably know the basics. How old is he?” Hercules asked.

“I still have to take him to a pediatrician, but based off of his motor skills he’s about seven months.” George answered.

“Wait,” John started, “Are you doing tummy time with him?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Y’know, placing them on their stomachs for like twenty minutes to help them build muscles. He may mentally be his age, but he’s still built like an angry munchkin.” John said. At the questioning glances he got from the other three, he said defensively, “What, I have younger siblings.”

Luckily for them, Alex was entranced with his book. “No, I have not. I’ll start that.”

“How did you explain this, how you say, predicament to the rest of Congress?” Lafayette asked.

“Once again, that’s still something I haven’t done yet. I will have to take him as visual proof, and he’s not going to approve of that at all.”

Hercules snorted. “Yeah, the Alex we know would never let his sworn political enemies know his weaknesses.”

“Remember that one time when Alex got so drunk that he started-” John said. Before he could finish, Lafayette literally leaped up from the couch and lunged over to where John was sitting, covering his mouth with his hand.

“Non, we do not speak of that.” He warned, slowly moving his hand away from the laughing John. The commotion had caught Alex’s attention, and he had abandoned his book in favor of crawling towards George. Once he was at his feet, he lifted his arms in a way that clearly meant ‘Pick me up’.

Obliging to his wish, George carefully lifted him up by his underarms and placed him on his knee. Alex was red in the face, but trying his best to ignore the others, who looked like they were trying their best not to coo at him. “So,” George said, “What days are you available?”

Sharing a glance with the others, Lafayette said, “We can watch him on Tuesdays and Thursdays.”

“That’d be great.” In his lap, Alex was struggling to stay awake. He was nodding off, and his eyes would close only to snap back open. George moved him to a position where he was cradling him. Now laying down, Alex allowed his eyes to close.

The five of them sat there in peaceful silence, not wanting to wake the sleeping child. George figured that now was as good a time as any to let them get used to holding him. At least when he was asleep he couldn’t fight them off. Careful not to wake Alex, George stood up. Walking over to where John was sitting, he motioned for him to take the baby.

John slid his hands underneath Alex’s head and bottom, and pulled him close to his chest. Alex didn’t stir, only let out a small sigh. The ease with which John held Alex spoke of years of experience. He didn’t say anything, just slowly rocked the child. After around ten minutes, he passed him to Lafayette.

Lafayette obviously didn’t have the same experience with holding babies as John did. His movements were cautious, and he flinched every time Alex moved in his sleep. He relaxed soon, when Alex burrowed deeper into Lafayette’s shirt. “It is odd, the quiet.” Lafayette mused.

John snorted in amusement. “Yeah, and the sleeping.”

George didn’t say anything, just watched as Lafayette handed Alex over to Hercules. He was like John, and obviously had experience with holding infants. When Alex started to stir, he passed him back to George. Whispering so he didn’t alert Alex, he said, “I think he needs a change. There’s a guest bedroom down the hall and three doors down on your left.”

Alex awoke with a small yawn. His face scrunched up in a way that George had recently learned the meaning of. Standing up and ignoring the popping of his joints (he really wasn’t that old), George walked back over to the entryway. John and Lafayette looked confused, but when he picked up the bag realization dawned on their faces.

When he came back, the three men were in a passionate argument over whether ketchup was a smoothie. Alex, who was now in a fresh diaper and propped on George’s hip, looked like he wanted to contribute.

“We really must be going now. The Schuylers expect us there by six.” George said, effectively ending the argument before they could make even worse observations.

They all stood up and walked over to where they were standing in the entrance of the living room. Hugging George, which elicited a disgruntled noise from Alexander, who had been caught in between, Lafayette said, “Do try and visit more often. We miss your company.”

“Yeah man, you’re always welcome.” Hercules said, handing him his phone, which he had left on the coffee table. 

“Thank you, I’ll keep that in mind. We’ll see you in a few days.” George said, stepping outside.

“Bye Alex!” John yelled from the living room, where he was presumably still looking for his phone, which had gotten lost during the ketchup-smoothie debate.

Alex yelled back, though yelling is an overstatement. More like, he babbled louder than usual.

They walked to the car, and prepared to see the Schuyler sisters.

* * *

Walking up to the house, George was struck with how distinctly  _ Eliza  _ it was. It was elegant, but not cold. The flowers growing in the front were well trimmed, but had the look that they were done by her, not by a service. It felt welcoming.

No sooner had they stood on the porch did Peggy fling open the door. George winced as he heard it hit the wall. Looking at Alexander, the only thing she said was, “Angelica owes me $10.”

Her sisters must have heard the commotion, because within thirty seconds they were in the doorway.

“I owe you $10, Peggy.” Angelica said, staring at Alex. George didn’t know what they had bet on, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

Eliza had been looking at Alex too with an indecipherable look on her face, but seemed to realize that they were still standing outside. “Oh yeah! Come in, come in.” She said, ushering them into the entryway. From a pocket in her dress, she pulled out a small, handheld puzzle and her phone, which had earbuds plugged in. Tapping a few times, she stepped forward to Alex and put the earbuds in his ears. Ignoring his sound of surprise, she passed the phone to George, who took it equally as confused as Alex. She then gave him the puzzle. He looked at it questionably, trying to figure out what to do with it. After a couple seconds, he was trying to solve it. “Distraction.” She explained simply. “Anyway, let’s move to the living room.”

Following the sisters, they ended up in a moderately sized sitting room, which held just enough seats for all of them. Sitting down on a loveseat, George asks, “How are you so calm about this?”

Angelica snorted, and Peggy said, “He was already a toddler. Now he fits his mental age.” She dodged a slap from Eliza, slipping out of the chair she was in and instead settled on the floor.

“Be nice, Peggy.” She admonished, though she was barely concealing a smile. Alex was still happily working on the puzzle. “So,” She started, “Anything we need to know about him before we watch him?” She ignored the “We?” from Peggy, going to sit on the chair she had abandoned.

“Nothing that comes to mind. I’ll bring over the supplies. Is there anything specific you want to know?” George answered. Truth be told, he had no idea what kind of information they would need. He was just trying to keep them both alive and sane.

“How much does he sleep?” Angelica supplied, after both her sisters didn’t answer.

“He’s fallen asleep around eight and woken at seven for the past two days.”

“Does he nap?” Peggy asked.

“Around three, he falls asleep for about two hours.”

Eliza laughed. “Thirteen hours a day? I don’t think he slept that much  _ total  _ when we were together.”

“It is strange.” George agreed. “So, should we discuss dates?”

After a while, it was decided that they would watch him on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. George would have to take him on Saturdays. He supposed it was a good thing they were going to tell the cabinet tomorrow, because they’d figure it out soon enough.

By the time plans were made, Alex was dozing off in his lap. One of the earbuds had fallen out, and the puzzle was held loosely in his grasp. Standing up with Alex, he untangled the earbud wires and handed it back to Eliza. When he tried to hand her the puzzle, she told him to keep it. “He’s getting close, and it’s good for him to have something to focus on.”

“I cannot thank you enough for your help.” George said, hugging them.

“It’s really no problem. Hopefully, we’ll find something to reverse this soon. Until then, there’s not much we can do.” said Angelica, handing him the bag.

“That reminds me, we need to stop at the store and buy some formula. You’re almost out.” He told Alexander. They walked down the steps and to their car. Alex waved goodbye to the women, and was once again focused on the puzzle as George buckled him in.

“Keep at it, and I’m sure you’ll finish it by the end of the night. He said, sliding into the front seat. “Eliza said you’ve almost got it figured out.”

When they pulled into the Target parking lot, George was focused on getting in and out as quick as possible. It was late, and he still hadn’t eaten. The space he parked in wasn’t in the light, and the darkness only reminded him of how exhausted he was. He unbuckled Alex from the backseat. When he closed the door, however, he accidentally knocked the puzzle out of his hands. Sighing, he leaned down to grab it. Maybe it was the dark. Maybe it was his focus on getting home. Whatever it was, he didn’t notice the figure walking up behind him. He barely caught a glimpse of metal before something hit him on the back of his head. Lights popped behind his eyes, and he was consumed by darkness.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


When he wakes up, he’s lying on the pavement with a head-splitting migraine. Trying to piece together, he looked around. There, only a few feet away, was Eliza’s puzzle. It took him only a second before he realized. 

  
  


Alex was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> o o p s
> 
> I warned y'all, I'm not above hurting a child.


	5. Just Sleep, It'll Get Better

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realized how much I make Hamilton sleep in this fic and I think it's my maternal instincts that are trying to protect him from the shit I put him through in my other stories. I know he just got kidnapped but god I just want him to take a nap and have some nice Washingdad times, is that to much to ask of me? y e s

How could he do this? How could he let this happen?

George had been at the police station for over two hours. The second he’d realized that whoever knocked him had also taken Alex, he jumped in his car and drove to the police station. The Secret Service was also looking, because when you attack the president and kidnap his kid (or his friend’s kid, as he was calling him), you’re going to be in quite a bit of trouble with the law.

He’d been alternating between sitting in the hard plastic chair they had in the waiting room and pacing. Some of the officers at the front desk were giving him worried looks. He suspected that he might have a mild concussion, if the dizziness and the vomiting he had done in the parking lot immediately after he regained consciousness were anything to go by, but he refused to get himself checked out. Not until after he got Alexander back.

An officer walked up to him. He had seen her when he first walked in. She was the one who wrote the report. He stopped pacing, and asked, “Is there any update?”

“Not yet,” she said, staying calm even when George was panicking, “I just need to ask a few more questions.”

Sighing, George sat back down. He answered the questions the best he could. (What was he hit with? It looked like a gun. How often did he go to that Target? Only twice. Did he have any enemies that would want to hurt him? Yeah, he was the president, of course he had enemies.)

After she had finished with the questions, he slumped back in his seat. This wouldn’t have happened if he had left the shopping until tomorrow. This wouldn’t have happened if he had parked in the light. This wouldn’t have happened if he paid more attention to his surroundings. Now Alexander was missing, and they had no clue where he was. If only he had been more _careful-_

Just as he was going over everything that had happened for the umpteenth time, in walked the officer again.

She was holding a sobbing Alex.

George was out of his seat in a second. He rushed to the other side of the room and, without hesitation, she handed him over to him.

“They found him about ten miles from here. Walked straight into one of our officers. He’s barely hurt, just a small cut on his forehead.” She assured him.

Looking down on the child in his arms, he could see the small bandage that had been placed along the edge of his hairline. He looked physically fine, but he was crying so hard his breaths were interrupted every few seconds by a hiccup. It didn’t help that his left hand was almost entirely in his mouth. It was obvious from holding him that the kidnappers hadn’t bothered to change his diaper, which probably did nothing to alleviate his discomfort.

George moved him, putting one hand under his bottom and using the other to cradle his head. “Shhh, it’s alright Alex. You’re back. It’s alright.” He murmured, trying to stop his crying.

It did nothing. If anything he only cried harder and grabbed onto the front of George’s shirt as if his life depended on it. Trying to calm him down, he remembered the pacifiers he had bought on a whim that were tucked neatly away in the diaper bag. He had brought the bag in because before the fiasco, he had dropped his phone in it so he could unbuckle Alexander. Now, he walked over the seats and unzipped it. Feeling around, he grabbed it and tore open the package. He took one, and gently replaced Alex’s fingers with the pacifier. He looked startled at first, but after a second allowed him to put it in his mouth. It did what he hoped, and quieted Alex’s sobs and calmed his breathing.

“It’s okay. You’re back, Alexander.” He promised. Alexander looked back at him with watery eyes, fingers still gripping his shirt so tight he’d probably had permanent wrinkles in it.

Turning to the officer, he said, “Thank you so much for your help.”

She gave him a smile. “It’s no problem, Mr. President. You will still have to come in for the legal stuff, but I think you’d better take that one home.” She said, pointing at Alex.

Nodding in acknowledgement at the officers at the front desk, he left out the door. Using his free hand, he texted a driver. He normally preferred to drive himself, but there was no way Alex was letting go anytime soon. His face was buried in the crook of George’s neck, and his sniffling was loud in the quiet of the night. And truth be told, George wasn’t exactly eager to put him down either.

Within three minutes, a car pulled up in front of the station. He got in, some maneuvering required because of Alex, and they took off towards the house.

They pull up in the driveway ten minutes later. George gets out, still holding Alex, and thanked the driver. He promised that he’ll give him his tip later, and he knows the driver believes him. He’s driven him before, and he doesn’t always have his wallet on him. He’s a decent human, though, so he always finds a way to pay a tip. Smiling back, the driver pulls out of the driveway and goes back towards the highway.

As they walked in the house, the dead silence was suffocating. He walks over to the radio, and puts on some soft classical music. This causes Alex to raise his head, which he hadn’t done since they’d got in the car.

They went into the kitchen. “You need to eat something.” George said, trying to put him down in his chair.

Alex vigorously shook his head, and clung onto George. He twisted away from the chair, babbling frantically.

“You don’t want me to put you down?” George asked.

Alex looked embarrassed, then slowly nodded.

“It’s okay, I can hold you.” He said, moving him back away from the chair and rubbing soothing circles onto his back. He grabbed the almost empty formula from the counter and mixed it with warm water in a bottle. Adjusting him until he was cradling him, George took the pacifier out of his mouth and replaced it with the bottle.

Alex fell asleep about halfway through. Sighing, George put the bottle in the fridge. He really should wake him so he could eat, but after everything he had gone through today it was a miracle that he had even fallen asleep. Taking advantage of his sleeping state, George took him upstairs and set him down on the dresser to change him. He wouldn’t have let George put him down if he was awake even though he was in dire need of a fresh diaper. In fact, even in his sleep he was pressing himself close as possible into George’s chest. He immediately wrote off putting him in the new crib. If he needed George, he would be too far away to hear him. Instead, he placed him in the center of the bed. He then himself changed, and got into bed. The initial adrenaline had worn off, and now he was exhausted. He closed his eyes, and held Alex even tighter.

At some point during the night, George was woken by small whimpers. Confused, he turned on the bedside lamp.

Alex was twisting and turning. Under his closed eyelids, he could see his eyes rapidly darting around. He was making small, pitiful noises and his arms were waving around as to fight off an assailant George couldn’t see. Realizing that he was having a nightmare, George picked him up, careful to avoid his flailing arms. He rocked him gently. “Alex, son, wake up.”

Alex let out a wail, and tears ran down his face. Switching from rocking to bouncing, George was able to get him to open his eyes. Alex slowly realized that he was no longer in a dream, but it didn’t stop his tears. Reaching over to the bedside table, he grabbed the pacifier and put it in his mouth. His cries quieted as he sucked on it, and he relaxed as George cooed at him, whispering reassurances. George felt his breathing go back to normal, and gently set him down once he had fallen asleep again.

He felt a lot of emotions, but the most prominent one was the protectiveness that was screaming at him to protect this child. He may be a literal baby, but even before he was transformed he was only 23, too damn young to have dealt with the things he’d gone through. From what George had been able to gather, he had moved to the States after his mother had died, his father left, and a hurricane destroyed his island. He never said specifically what had happened after that, but he’d guessed he’d gone into the system. There were days where his true age would shine through, and George would be able to see past the calm and put together Treasury Secretary and see the boy who was barely out of his teens. George knew that if anyone _ever_ tried to hurt him again, there would be hell to pay.

  
  


____________________________________________________________________________

  
  


George woke to Alex’s phone blowing up.

**FightingFrenchFuck** : We saw the news. Are you ok, mes amis?

**Angle:** Saw on the news someone attacked you and took Alex. Are you both alright?

**Iliekturtles:** hey r u both ok bc the news is saying youre fine but since when do we trust the news

**Horsefucker:** is There anything We can do?

George sighed, looking at the sleeping child next to him. It would be best for them to see him for themselves, but there was no telling how Alex would respond. He unlocked his phone, and answered.

**ADotHam:** We are both fine. Alex is shook up, and I’ve got what feels to be a mild concussion, but he’s back and physically fine. Do you want to come over and see him?

**Elizard:** if you’re fine with that

**Horsefucker:** that’d be great. 

**ADotHam:** You can come at any time. Alex is still asleep, but he’ll wake up soon.

**FightingFrenchFuck** : We’ll be there soon

About ten minutes later, the door rang. Picking up Alexander, he put the pacifier back in and made his way down the stairs. There, at the door, were John, Hercules, Lafayette, Angelica, Eliza, and Peggy. Motioning for them to enter, he made his way into the living room. Alex was still asleep, his head resting on his shoulder. They sit down, and John starts.

“So, what happened?” He asked, looking at the bandage on Alex’s forehead.

George recounts his story, starting at pulling into the driveway. He stops when he gets the part where he got home. As he tells the story, he can feel their horror, and can’t help to agree. Who kidnaps a child?

Towards the end, Alexander started waking up. He looked sleepily up at George, then jumped when he noticed the others there.

“Hi Alex.” Eliza greets. Alex shrinks further into George, a little uneasiness showing on his face and in his body language. The others smile sadly and say hello also. Alex stays right in George’s arms the entire time, not trying to spit out the pacifier and say something back.

After some idle talk, George brings up what he needs to. “I need to go to work tomorrow.”

The effect in Alex is instantaneous. He twists around in George’s arms, and starts babbling loudly. He looks panicked at the prospect of George leaving him, and it breaks his heart.

George adjusts his grip on him. “I’m taking you with me. Now that the press has gotten out that I have a baby with me, Congress is going to be suspicious. I’ll hold a press conference and tell everyone you’re a friend’s child. Unfortunately, we have to inform the cabinet. They need an explanation as to why you’ve been missing, and you have to be there for visual proof.”

Alex held onto his words, slowly processing. He looked relieved at the fact that George wasn’t leaving.

“I’m sorry, George, but I’ve got to open the store. It was supposed to open fifteen minutes ago, but I guess I lost track of the time.” Eliza apologized. At Eliza’s departure, the others also stood up to leave.

George promised to keep them updated on Alex’s condition and any discoveries as to how they were going to return him back to his normal size.

After they were gone, George went back up to the bedroom. They had come around seven, and it was nine now. He had gotten maybe three hours last night, and the fatigue was starting to weigh on him. He planned on going back to sleep for the rest of the day. He placed Alex back on the bed, and got in. Alex didn’t look opposed to the thought of going back to sleep. In fact, his eyes were already closed. George closed his own, and let himself drift off.


	6. Look Whose Talking, Now Can You Please Be Quiet?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm here for Anthony an Lin at the Oscars. And y'all see Vanessa? DAMN
> 
> I also want all of you to know that I write and post my works late at night, so that when i wake up I can read through and fix any typos that escaped my sleep deprived proof reading the night before.

The next morning, George's alarm went off at five. Rolling over, careful not to crush Alex, who was still clinging onto his shirt, he turned on the lamp. Carefully extracting himself from Alex's grip, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and started getting ready for the day. Alex was still asleep, arm extended where George was previously lying.

Five minutes later, a loud thump came from the bedroom. Rushing back in, he saw an unimpressed looking Alex lying on the floor by the bed. He was uninjured, and looked only slightly miffed at finding himself suddenly on the floor.

Sighing, George walked over and picked him up. "You need to think before you do these things." He admonished, walking over to the dresser. "You could have gotten hurt." Alex didn't answer, just rolled his eyes and buried his face in George’s shirt.

Choosing to ignore him, George set him down on top of the dresser. Opening the top drawer, where he was keeping the baby supplies, he pulled out an outfit. 

When Alex saw the clothes, his eyes widened in horror. He twisted, struggling to roll over onto his stomach. "No no no no no!" He yelled, the words not quite having the forceful power now that it was distorted by his baby voice.

"Oh, so you can speak?" George grabbed him and held him still, trying to keep him from falling off another piece of furniture this morning. "You're coming in today, if only to explain your absence. You need to wear something nicer."

Alex groaned, and buried his face in his hands. He stopped struggling, but made his disapproval of the outfit loud and clear with his angry muttering.

Five minutes later, George was carrying Alex, who was wearing a red striped shirt, overalls, and dinosaur socks down the stairs and into the kitchen. Setting him down in his chair, George took out the frying pan and four eggs. Alex, upon seeing he was having eggs again, groaned once more.

"Do you want a bottle instead?" George asked. Alex shook his head. "I'll have to figure out what else you can eat. Until then, you're stuck with scrambled eggs and formula." Putting the eggs on the pan, George stepped away from the stove and started walking toward the hallway to collect his things. It had been a hectic few days, and he needed to find a few misplaced papers that had somehow scattered themselves around the house.

When Alex saw him trying to leave, he let out a loud whine. He kicked his legs, and reached out to where George was standing. He looked upset at being left alone, and was struggling in his chair.

George walked back over to him, and he settled down. "Alright, I won't leave. In fact, I think the eggs are done. Let's eat." He said, keeping a careful eye on Alex. His expression brightened, and he stopped kicking his legs. His eyes turned instead to the stove.

What happened two nights ago was still scaring him. He was twitchy, and he wouldn't let George out of his sight. At least this morning he was allowed to put him down, though he was still trying to stay close to him. He was obviously trying to pretend that he was over it, but if his acting skills as an adult were dismal, they were downright non-existent as a baby.

Putting some eggs in a bowl, George made his way back over to Alex. He tried to grab the spoon, but George held it away from him. "You're already dressed, and we don't have time for a repeat of last time."

Taking some on the spoon, he lifted it to Alex's mouth. He looked insulted at the fact that George was feeding him, but he opened his mouth nevertheless. After a few bites, he no longer had the look on his face and was happily accepting the food.

Twenty minutes later, they had both eaten, George had found his papers, and they were ready to leave. George locked the door, carrying Alex's carrier with one hand, his briefcase with the other, and the diaper bag slung over his left shoulder. He walked out to the car, which he had had someone drive back to the house. He put the carrier in, and slid into the front seat. He started the car, and drove out of the driveway and onto the road.

When they arrived at the White House, it was eight and Alex was fidgeting with his seatbelt in the back seat. George pulled into his spot, and got out of the car. Grabbing everything, he took the carrier out and made his way up to the doors. Passing the Secret Service, they didn't bat an eye. To be fair, the president carrying a disgruntled baby wasn't the weirdest thing they had seen.

When they got inside, George quickly made his way through the halls. The last thing he needed this morning was some questioning politician who had too much time and too much to gain by spilling his secrets to the press. He somehow managed to avoid everyone, not helped by Alex's nonstop chatter. George didn't have a clue what he was going on about, only that he was deep in a one-sided conversation with himself and he didn't seem to need George's insight. He would occasionally hum his agreement, turning corners and taking hallways he didn't realize existed until this day to get them to his office. Finally, they reached the Oval Office. Opening the door, he walked over to the desk and set Alex down. He didn't seem to notice, still talking to himself and was now entranced with trying to reach the handle of the carrier.

Sitting down at the desk, George sent out a quick message to the rest of the cabinet, telling them to meet in the Situation Room in half an hour. Ironic name, he thought. Going over to where he set Alex down, he crouched and unbuckled him. Lifting him out of his seat and interrupting his conversation, George set him on his hip and walked out of the room. Alex looked around curiously, occasionally pointing towards a closed door and babbling.

When they reached the room, everyone else was already seated. They all looked up when they entered, and varying degrees of shock appeared on their faces. Madison, Jefferson, and Burr immediately registered what was going to happen. Lee, Jay, and Adams on the other hand, looked confused. The others started whispering, badly concealing pointing and eyeing Alex. He had stopped talking and was now leaning into George, gripping his shirt and looking around warily. George took a seat. He sat Alex down on his knee, and waited for the conversations to stop. After a second, everyone was looking at them.

Clearing his throat, he started. "I called this meeting to inform you of our Treasury Secretary Alexander Hamilton's current whereabouts."

"He's never missed a day. Did he quit?" Adams asked hopefully.

"No," George said with a slight glare, "He is still on our staff. He is currently on leave, given his current condition."

"What condition? And does this have anything to do with what happened a couple nights ago?" Lee asked, leaning back in his chair.

"It is difficult to explain, and difficult to understand. Madison, Jefferson, and Burr already know the situation, and can attest to its validity. We were in the conference room, when there was a bright light. When we looked back, Secretary Hamilton was," he paused, motioning at the baby on his knee, "an infant."

Silence filled the room. Everyone looked between George and Alex, who was glaring at everyone with crossed arms. Suddenly, there was a laugh from the back.

"You really expect us to believe that?" Lee said, a look of incredulity on his face.

Surprisingly, it was Burr who spoke up. "He's telling the truth. We were there, and that is Hamilton. There is no logical explanation for it, but whatever that light was did this to him."

"That still doesn't make sense! How do we know that is really Hamilton?" Lee said, waving towards Alex.

Adams smirked. "Maybe now we can replace him."

Alexander, who had been sitting quietly and watching the conversation around him, immediately started yelling angrily at Adams' words. "No no no no no!" He flung his arms around and made it hard for George to keep his grip on him. 

Grunting, he reached into his bag and brought out a pacifier. He managed to put it in his mouth while he was talking, and the shock of it made him quiet down. He turned his head and squinted at George, but didn’t spit it out. Looking back at Adams, George tiredly said, "No, we will not be replacing him. We have measures for when members of our staff are temporarily unable to perform their duties, and we will take these measures now."

Jefferson lifted an eyebrow. "He can talk now?" He asked, pointedly ignoring the death glare he was receiving from Alexander. "What else can he say?"

"At the moment the only thing he can say is 'no'." George answered. Jefferson snorted, and whispered something that sounded suspiciously like ‘Who would have thought’ to Madison. "However, he is still mentally an adult," He said, speaking to the entire room, "And will be treated with the same respect. I will put out a message that Hamilton is a friend's child, and I am watching him for the time being. This stays in this room. We cannot let it get out to the public that an unknown source was able to transform our Treasury Secretary into an infant. That is all I have to say at this moment in time. Meeting adjourned."

As everyone filed out of the room, George stayed seated with Alex. Once everyone had left, some taking more time than necessary in hopes of catching a closer glance at Alex, he put his papers back into his briefcase and stood up. Setting Alex on his hip, they made their way back to his office.

The meeting had given him a headache, and Alex didn't seem to be doing much better. His nose was scrunched up, and he was pressing his face into George's shirt. Touching his forehead, he could feel he was a bit warm. Hopefully he wasn't getting sick, because he had no idea what he would do if he was. "Do you feel alright, Alexander?" He asked, setting him down next to the desk.

Alex nodded, looking up at George.` He tried to crawl over to where George was, about five feet away. He only made it halfway, his legs dragging behind him and his arms too weak to hold him up. Huffing in annoyance, he rolled onto his back and lifted his arms.

"Hold on," George said, reaching into his desk and pulling out an old, soft blanket that he kept in there for long nights, "You need to do what Laurens said, and now is as good a time as any." Ignoring Alexander's confused face, he set the blanket down on the ground. Picking up Alex, he gently set him down on his stomach. "Stay there. I just have a few things to finish, then we can leave."

Alexander groaned, and laid his head on the blanket. He removed the pacifier, instead opting to pass it from hand to hand. He talked to himself quietly, turning his head to the side.

After thirty minutes, George was finished. He had kept up with what he needed to do while Alex slept, and luckily they hadn't had any angry ambassadors or declarations of war. Standing up, he crouched down and picked up Alex by his underarms.

Making a surprised noise, Alex grabbed onto the blanket as he was lifted into the air. Settling down again when he was put into his carrier, he still didn't let go of the blanket.

"That was on the floor, you know." George said. He smiled and shook his head when he only received a blank stare in return. He moved the blanket to where it was lying over him, instead of dragging on the ground. He seemed happy with it, and buried his face in it. Grabbing the bags and Alex, George turned off the lights and walked out the door.

* * *

"Do you want a bottle?" George asked. Alex was in his highchair, playing with the puzzle. He still had the blanket.

"No!"

"Do you want eggs?" He tried.

"No!"

"You can say a word and you're sticking with it. Can you say anything else?"

Alex gave him a cheeky smile. "No."

George sighed, and rubbed his face. "Alright, well, you need to eat something. You're going to have to drink a bottle, because I don't know what else you can eat."

Handing him the bottle, George watched as he struggled to get a grip on it. Finally, he was able to wrap his small hands around it and made a small victory noise as he got it into his mouth. George sat down at the island and ate his own dinner. Once he was finished, he walked over to Alex's highchair and picked him up. Wrapping the blanket around his shoulders, he made his way upstairs.

At the top of the stairs, George stopped. "I know you've been sleeping in my bed, but you have your own now. Do you want to sleep in it? You are still more than welcome to sleep in mine, it all depends on what you're comfortable with." He quickly assured. He didn't want Alex to think he was being too clingy, he just wanted him to know that if he wanted his own space it was available.

Alex looked conflicted. He looked between both rooms, and slowly pointed at the guest room.

"Alright. I'm in the room right next door, and there is a baby monitor." George ignored the way his face scrunched up when he mentioned the monitor. "Just call, and I'll be there. Let's get you ready."

Alex's things were still in George's dresser. Going into his room, he changed him out of his clothes and into pajamas. He was dressed in a onesie, pants, and fuzzy socks to account for the slight chill in the house. Taking him back down the hall, he entered the guest room. A small nightlight illuminated the doorway. At the far wall was a simple crib. Inside was a mattress, sheets, and the stuffed dog George had found in the linen closet the first day.

Alex looked at the crib with apprehension. He held onto George a little bit tighter, and gripped the blanket with his small fist.

"Are you sure you want to sleep in here?" George asked, watching the anxious look on his son's face.

Alex schooled his face into a look of indifference, and nodded. George didn't point out how he was holding on to George so tight his knuckles were white. If he needed him, for any reason, he would hear him through the monitor. He'd check on him before he went to sleep and make sure he was fine. Leaning down, he gently set Alex down inside. He looked so small, sitting there looking around at his new surroundings warily. He pulled the blanket up to his chin, the soft fabric probably providing some comfort. He spotted the dog, and moved his arms as though to grab it. He stopped the movement at the last moment, blushing slightly. George reached down and moved it next to him. It was almost as tall as Alex while he was sitting down. Alex reached out tentatively and pet it carefully.

George watched his actions, and felt a warmth fill his chest. "Goodnight, Alex." He said softly. He pulled the blanket over his shoulders.

Alex looked up and gave a tiny wave.

Turning his back, George quietly stepped outside the room and closed the door. It was late, and he still had to go to work tomorrow. Getting ready for bed felt too quiet without Alex in the room. He couldn't hear any noise, but that did little to reassure him. Once he was ready, he went to check on Alex.

He silently opened the door and peeked in. Alex was asleep. The blanket was still over him, and he was hugging the dog tight to his chest. His cheeks were a little red, which could have either been because of the sleep or the blanket being a bit too warm. Closing the door again, George went back to his room and laid down. Staring up at the ceiling, he knew that sleep was going to be hard without the assurance that Alex was by his side.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know a lot of people hate Hamilton for the fanbase, and like, I totally understand. You've got the people who can't distinguish between the actual historical figures and their musical counterparts. You've got people stanning Thomas Jefferson (though I can definitely tell you, there were cringy white people stanning Thomas Jefferson long before the musical came out, take my grandparents, for example), you've got shippers who flip their shit anytime Hamilton is pictured with anyone other than Laurens. And it sucks. It sucks that to many people, this fandom is seen as something to stay away from because of the people in it are so aggressively ignorant to who these people actually are. Thomas Jefferson was a slave owner and quite possibly a rapist. Alexander Hamilton was a xenophobic asshole who created a financial system that still screws over the working class today. George Washington was also a slave owner, and was cruel to those he viewed as lesser. We have to remember that these people are awful. We can't take away their faults, like we like to. To take away someones faults makes them an idol, and makes us blind to what they did to reach that high pedestal. We can't take away the good they did either, because that makes them a villain. When we portray someone as a villain, we become blind to how other people can become like them. We need to take them, as they are, and judge them on that. These men founded our country. These men were abhorrently racist. These men fought for our freedom. These men often ignored the lower class in favor of helping the higher class. We take these facts and form our opinions over this. Overall, these men were not good people. By idolizing them, we insult their victims. So please, when you talk about these people, remember that they are not like their characters. Also know, those who hate Hamilton for these reasons, most of us realize this. We don't like the historical people, we like the fictional characters from the musical. I write stories about these fictional characters. I hold these characters very close to my heart, but believe me, if I ever saw Thomas Jefferson, George Washington, Alexander Hamilton, James Madison, or any of those other fucks, I'd go fuckin feral and use my whole 5'3 95 pound ass to throw hands.
> 
> TL;DR Historical figures are not their musical counterparts and y'all need to remember this
> 
> Also ISTG if I see another post bringing up that fuckgin miku binder Thomas Jefferson I am deleting myself. It's like The Game and Lucky Luciano had a child and it's ruining the internet


	7. Long Nights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe I'm finally writing this chapter. It may sound odd, but this was actually the first chapter I came up with. This idea popped into my head and I was like "Okay, that's nice and all, but I kind of need a story to go along with it."
> 
> Also has anyone seen those first grade pictures of Anthony Ramos because I did and lost my shit at how he hasn't changed at all, down to the facial expression.

George woke up in the middle of the night. Looking around the room, he looked for the cause. It was still dark out, and his alarm wouldn’t go off for another few hours. He was about to go back to sleep when he heard a noise. He couldn’t make out what it was, but it was coming from the baby monitor.

He was out of bed immediately. Rushing from the room and down the hall, he went to the guest room. Knocking quietly on the door, he received no answer. Slowly opening the door, he stepped inside. The only noises in the room were small whimpers coming from the other side. The nightlight just barely allowed him to see the crib. Making his way over, George looked over the railing.

Alex looked awful. His face was pale, but his cheeks were flushed a bright red. A sheen of sweat covered his forehead. His eyes were shiny with unshed tears. He was twisting around, one hand holding onto the stuffed dog and the other had a death grip on the sheets. His socks had been discarded, and were pushed to the end of the crib. His pants were twisted around his legs, and he was kicking weakly as he tried to remove them. His hair was plastered onto his forehead, only adding to his level of discomfort. His breathing was short and rapid, and George couldn’t tell if it was from the fever he obviously had or if it was from his attempts to control his emotions. His whines must have been what had woken him up.

Alex’s eyes widened when he saw George. His movements grew more frantic, and his bottom lip wobbled.

“Oh, Alex.” He said sadly. Bending over the side, he extended his hand to feel his forehead. Before he could reach him, Alex let go of the sheets and grabbed onto his hand. He looked into his eyes and started muttering repetitively under his breath.

“What is it, Alex?” George asked, leaning in closer. Alex didn’t get louder, but he maintained eye contact. When he realized that George didn’t know what he was saying, the first tears escaped. He started hitting his hand with his small fists, and grew more urgent in his words.

When George tried to pull his hand back, worried that his presence was the cause of his distress, Alex grabbed onto his thumb. “ _No!”_ He wailed, pulling his hand closer. Once George was no longer trying to retract his hand, he continued his repetitive mumbling, slightly louder this time.

Leaning down as far as he could over the railing. George listened to what he was trying to say.

_“Dadadadadadadadadada-”_

He was saying Dada. He was calling George Dada. He couldn’t deny it, there was no doubt, what with how pronounced the word was and how he was looking directly at him. _Alex was calling him Dada._

“It’s alright son, I’m here." He cooed, slipping his hands underneath him and pulling him out of the crib. The stuffed dog fell from his grip. “I’m right here.” Cradling him, George could feel the heat radiating off of him. He felt like a furnace against his chest, and George would be lying if he said that it didn’t scare him.

As soon as he was settled, Alex started kicking his legs. He arched his back and grabbed onto the pants and pulled. _“O’, o’, o’,”_ He whined, twisting his fingers into the fabric.

“On? You want them back on?” George tried.

Alex violently shook his head. _“NO!”_ He cried, kicking even harder.

“Off?” George asked quickly. When he received no answer, he decided to try. Maneuvering him until he was being held with one arm, a difficult task seeing as Alex still hadn’t stopped moving, he used his other arm to gently disentangle Alex’s legs from his pajamas. It seemed to be the right choice, because as soon as they were off he calmed down slightly. The calm only lasted a second before he was pulling on his onesie.

“Hold on honey, I need to put you down on the dresser.” George said while rushing out of the room, the name slipping out unnoticed. Entering his room, he flipped on the lights. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He apologized, seeing Alex flinch at the sudden brightness.

Once at the dresser, he tried to put Alex down. Alex refused to cooperate, clinging to George desperately. _“Dadadadada-”_

“I know, son, I’m not leaving,” he promised, “I just need to put you down so I can take that off of you, alright sweetheart?”

Alex processed his words for a few seconds before he relented, letting go of the fabric of George’s shirt. Once lying on the dresser, Alex wriggled uncomfortably. George quickly unsnapped his onesie and set it aside. Alex continued writhing, now pulling on the edge of his diaper. Weighing the risks, George removed it too, in favor of helping Alex get comfortable. It worked, and for the first time since he had woken up, Alex was still. He laid there on the dresser, looking up at George with tired eyes.

Trying to pick him up, he brought him up to his chest. Alex immediately started hitting him, pushing away. George brought him away confused. Alex looked at him pleadingly, and George tried again. Once again, Alex pushed away. They continued like this a few times, George trying to bring him close and Alex hitting him when he got to his chest. George was at a loss. Alex was getting more and more frustrated with every try, tears once again welling in his eyes. He’d be fine until he was close and then-

Oh. It clicked in George’s head. Alex whined until his clothes were removed. He was fine until he was against George’s shirt. He had a problem with the fabric. Setting Alex down and slipping off his shirt, he tried again. Alex looked relieved, and finally allowed George to hold him. Now that they were skin to skin, George realized the true danger of his temperature. He didn’t have a clue where his thermometer was at the moment, but he could tell that he was at at least 102°, if not higher. He himself had had higher, but for Alex’s current age, it was no doubt dangerous. If he didn’t bring it down, he was going to have to take him to an urgent care. He didn’t have any medicine that he could take, but that would take too long anyway. A cool bath would be better at immediate results.

“Alright, Alex, let’s get you into a cool bath, hmm?” George said soothingly, walking into the bathroom. “Does that sound nice, honey?”

Alex didn’t answer, only burying his face into George’s chest. There wasn’t anything to hold onto, so he curled up into himself.

Kneeling, George turned on the water. Water ran out of the faucet, cool enough to hopefully bring his temperature down but warm enough that he’d be able to stay in it. George sat there on the bathroom floor for five minutes, rocking Alex and whispering reassurances. Finally, it was deep enough.

He tried to lift Alex over the edge and into the water, but Alex refused to let go. He wrapped his arms around his neck. “ _Dadadadada-”_ He cried, burying his face in his neck.

George didn’t have the heart to pry him off. Standing up, he stepped into the bathtub. Cringing at the cold, he ignored it and slowly sat down. He tried to move Alex to where they were sitting back to chest, but he refused to move. He opted instead to cup water in his hands and trickle it over his upper back where he wasn’t in the water. Alex shivered at the cold, but didn’t try to move away.

They stayed like that for thirty minutes, until the water was too uncomfortable to stay in. Stepping out, he grabs a towel and tries to dry off the best he can. Using the towel, he gently patted Alex dry. Alex whined, but didn’t fight him. They walked out of the bathroom, and George set Alex down on the bed so he could change into dry sweatpants. Once he was done, he picked Alex up again.

The bath had helped tremendously. He was no longer burning up, and his breathing was normal again. Based on his reaction to the towel, clothing was still not an option. Something soft enough, perhaps. Remembering the blanket Alex had taken earlier that day, he went back to his crib and picked it up. He also took the stuffed dog.

“Is this alright?” He asked, holding the blanket against him. Alex looked at it, and murmured something George couldn't hear. He didn't move away, so George took it as an affirmation. His dog caught his eye, however, and he reached out to grab it. Wrapping the blanket around him and handing him the dog, he finally looked content. He buried his face in the stuffed animal and relaxed against George. It was peaceful. The night still wasn’t over, though. He wanted to stay awake to make sure his fever didn’t spike again.

Walking across the hall and into his office, he sat down in the rocking chair he had had for years. Rocking slowly, he cradled Alex. Alex looked up sleepily, playing with the edge of the blanket. Less than a minute later, he was asleep.

George stayed there, rocking. It was going to be a long night and he still had to go into work tomorrow, but he’d do it a thousand times over for his son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was 3 a.m., and my brain suddenly screamed "CUTE NAMES!!!!!!!!!!" so now y'all get this. Alex is stressed because he's sick, George is stressed because Alex is sick, and when you've got a crying baby you're gonna start saying anything and everything to calm them down. Also I felt bad for Sherph518 because they keep asking me to leave Alex alone and I am incapable of doing that, so bone apple teeth.


	8. We All Have Rough Mornings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've seen some (not necessarily with Hamilton, but other fandoms) similar stories where they share a Moment™ and immediately after it's all fine and any previous reservations are gone. Alex is stubborn and not good at the whole "accepting feelings and realizing that people care about him" thing, so I decided to do this instead.
> 
> I hate going back through my writing in the morning because I need to change all the tenses to the right one and it just highlights how stupid I am.

When George’s alarm went off, it took everything in his power not to throw his phone across the room. They had been up until six, Alex waking up periodically when his fever would rise. George would talk and rock him into an uneasy sleep, only for him to wake up fifteen minutes later sobbing when his temperature got higher. The dog and blanket, which seemed to be his comfort items, only helped the first few times at calming him down. Most of the night, he twisted too much to keep a grip on them. George stayed in that rocking chair for hours, praying that he wouldn’t get worse. His prayers were answered around five, when his fever finally got low enough that Alex could sleep peacefully. They walked back to his bedroom, and George dressed him again. Alex was passed out, and made no objections. Setting him down on the middle of the bed, George set his alarm to go off in five hours. He also texted John, Lafayette, and Hercules, telling them not to come over until noon. Holding Alex to his chest, he gave into his exhaustion and fell asleep.

Now, it was eleven and he was regretting every decision he had ever made. Groaning silently, he turned around to face Alex. He was still asleep, curled up under the blanket. His cheeks were still pink, but not like they were last night. His breathing was even, and he was still. Careful not to wake him, he bent over and pressed his hand to his forehead. Still warm, but no longer dangerous. Getting out of bed, George reluctantly got ready for the day.

When he walked back into the room, Alex was still asleep. He must have been exhausted from the previous night, given that he hadn’t gotten more than six hours of sleep. Gently picking him up, George made his way downstairs. Alex stayed asleep, only moving to bury his face in George’s shoulder. When George laid him down on the couch so he could go make breakfast, he still didn’t stir.

In the kitchen, George turned on the burner and took out Alex’s phone. He should probably create a group on his own phone, but he didn’t have time for that this morning. It was the first day that the others would be watching Alex, but last night had been hard. He trusted them, it was just that he wasn’t sure if Alex would be able to handle it. Last night he had refused to leave him, and he had-

Oh. Now he remembered. Alex had called him “Dada.”. He felt a warmth in his chest just thinking about it. However, he wasn’t going to bring it up. Alex had been practically delirious, and he wasn’t sure how much of it had been him and how much of it was the fever. He knew the boy, and knew that if he brought it up they’d go right back to square one. It had happened before. He’d let Alex do what he was comfortable with, but he wouldn’t push him.

Unlocking the phone, he decided to warn them about last night.

**AdotHam:** Alex is still asleep, and I have to leave in half an hour. Can one of you pick up some medicine on our way over?

**FightingFrenchFuck:** Is he ok?

**AdotHam:** He was sick last night, probably something that he caught at work. I don’t have any medicine that he can take, and he’s still running a low fever.

**Iliekturtles:** i live next to a cbs, ill get some

**horsefucker:** *cvs

**Iliekturtles:** fvck u

**FightingFrenchFuck:** Is he better?

**AdotHam:** He hasn’t woken up, so I can say how he’s feeling, but he looks better. Just a warning, he didn’t get back to sleep until 6, so he’s going to be tired.

**horsefucker:** that Bad?

**AdotHam:** His fever was so high I had to cool him down with a bath. Any higher and I would have taken him to the ER

**Iliekturtles:** u sure u want to go to work? Sounds like you had a rough night

**AdotHam:** Wish I could, but I can’t. When will you be over?

**Iliekturtles:** im driving the others, so like 30 min

**AdotHam:** Thank you three so much

**Horsefucker:** np dude, you And alex are Both like familyy To us

Turning off the phone, George sets it on the counter. He’s eternally grateful for them, and he’s not sure what he would do if they weren’t there. Preparing a bottle and putting his own (not eggs) breakfast onto a plate, he made his way over to the living room to wake Alex so he could eat something. He would hopefully go back to sleep afterwards, but he hadn’t eaten in over twelve hours.

When he heard Alex’s voice he stopped in the doorway, just out of sight. Alex was once again on the floor, as though he had rolled off in his sleep. He had a look of frustration on his face. Back leaning against the couch, he was doing his best to push away the blanket and dog, kicking at them even though they were far out of his reach. When he started pulling at his onesie, George entered the room.

“What’s wrong, son?” he asked, kneeling in front of him. Now that he was sitting close to him, he could see the tears in his eyes that he was obviously trying to contain.

“No!” Alex yelled, his anger surprising George.

“No what, Alex?” He asked calmly.

“No!” He repeated.

George looked into his face and tried to decipher what was going on. “Can you please tell me? I know you can’t speak, so try your best.”

Alex looked distressed, his look of anger fading away and being replaced with anguish. He looked conflicted, then slowly pointed to the dog. “No.”

“The dog is no?” George asked, trying to figure out what was wrong with the dog that could be causing him to react like this.

Alex shook his head, then pointed to the blanket. “No.” He said again. The first tears escaped, rolling down his cheeks as he pointed to himself. “No.”

“This isn’t you?” George asked tentatively, afraid to worsen his mood.

Alex nodded, and broke down into sobs. He wiped at his face to try and stem the tears, but they weren’t stopping, which only made them worse.

George immediately pulled him into his lap, running his fingers through his hair and murmuring reassurances. Once his tears had slowed significantly, he moved him until they were face to face. “I know, Alex. Whatever that light did to you, it made you like this. You may still have your mind, but it altered you. None of this you have to stress over, do you understand me? You’re not completely you, but I’m going to take care of you until you are.”

Alex was watching him closely, so many emotions crossing his face they were hard to make out. He saw fear, confusion, relief. Alex didn’t seem to be much better at figuring them out than he was, and once he stopped talking, he opted to lean forward, pressing his face into the fabric of his shirt.

“It’s alright, Alex.” George soothed, rocking him back and forth on the living room floor. Alex was still sniffling. They stayed there for five minutes, until the doorbell rang.

“That’s them.” He said, getting up off the floor. Alex didn’t respond, just holding on tighter to George’s shirt.

He opened the front door, and all three were standing there. John was carrying a CVS bag, and Hercules had a backpack over his shoulder.

“George! How good to see you again.” Lafayette exclaimed, stepping inside.

“You too. Let me show you where everything is, then I really have to leave. This morning took a little longer than I expected, so I’ve got to leave very soon.”

When he mentioned how their morning had been eventful, their eyes traveled over to Alex. He hadn’t moved since they left the living room, and was silent.

“Is he okay?” John asked quietly, looking concerned.

“He’s fine now, he just had a rough morning.” George whispered, not wanting Alex to hear. “Let me show you around.” He said, returning to his normal volume. He walked away from the front door, and the others followed.

-

“Bye, Alex.” George said. 

Alex was being held by John. He had been given his medicine, and they were hoping that the Children’s Tylenol would completely get rid of the fever. George had shown them where the formula was, the drawer that held his clothes, and told them that when naptime came to put Alex in his bed instead of the crib. He’d try again with the crib later, but he wanted to clean his sheets before he laid back in them.

Alex blinked lethargically, the lack of sleep making itself known. He raised his hand and gave a small wave.

“We’ll take care of him, don’t worry my friend.” Lafayette assured.

“Yeah, this isn’t my first time taking care of a kid. Now go before you’re even later than you already are."

Grabbing his briefcase, George walked out the front door. Even though the anxiety of leaving Alex was strong, he trusted them.

* * *

The door shut, leaving only the three men and a small child. They stood awkwardly around for a second, not sure what to do, before Lafayette clapped his hands together and brightly said, “Well, let’s begin!”

“What should we do?” John asked, moving Alex from one side to the other.

“We could watch a movie. I’ve got some things for a client that I need to get done. Alex, do you want to watch a movie?” Hercules asked, walking into the living room and setting his bag down next to the couch. 

Alex shrugged, his eyes drooping. According to George, he hadn’t gotten much sleep the previous night. While this may have worked for older Alex, it obviously wasn’t working for the younger one.

“Alright, well, let’s put on The Little Mermaid.” John suggested, sitting down next to Hercules on the couch.

Lafayette put it on. That’s how they stayed for a while, until about thirty minutes in something caught Alex’s eye. John didn’t know how he was still awake. Apparently, some of his older self’s bad sleeping habits had carried over. Alex was looking over at Hercules, who had pulled out his sketchbook and was drawing a dress that he had to make for a client. Something about it had made Alex start wiggling in John’s grasp, until he let go. Now that he was free, Alex crawled from John’s lap and into Hercules’s. Hercules didn’t react, only moved Alex until he was sitting up and repositioned his sketchbook. Now that he seemed happy with his seating arrangements, Alex reached over and tried to grab a pencil.

“You want to try drawing something?” Hercules asked.

Alex nodded, still trying to grab a pencil.

“Here,” Hercules said, grabbing the pencil that Alex was reaching for and a piece of scratch paper, “Use these.”

Alex gave a small squeal of delight, and happily scribbled on the paper. When any of them tried to look, he would cover it with his hands and babble at them until they looked away.

An hour later, the movie was finished. Alex had stopped drawing ten minutes before the end, and was watching the movie. He was trying hard to stay awake, his head drooping until he would snap it back up.

“Let’s get you some dinner, Alex.” John said, gently taking him from Hercules’s lap. Alex didn’t respond, just laid his head on John’s shoulder. Lafayette and Hercules had both fallen asleep around halfway through the movie.

In the kitchen, John prepared the bottle. Alex would fall asleep if he didn’t get it made fast enough, but he needed to eat before he slept. Moving Alex until he was being cradled, he put the bottle in his mouth.

By the time he was finished, Alex was more asleep than he was awake. There was still about a quarter of the milk still left in the bottle, but no matter how much John had tried, Alex just couldn’t focus enough to drink it. Sighing and putting the bottle in the fridge, John made his way over to the staircase.

Alex didn’t stir when they climbed the stairs, when they walked down the hallway, or went in the room. However, when John tried to put him down, something drew his attention. He turned onto his stomach and crawled toward the other side of the bed.

“What is it, Alex?” John asked.

Alex pointed towards the headboard. The only thing there was one of George’s sweaters.

“You want this?” John walked over and grabbed it. 

Alex nodded.

“Here, let’s put it on you.”

The sweater was so oversized on Alex that his shoulders were in danger of slipping out through the neck hole. He looked content, though, and curled up in the center of the bed.

“Goodnight, Alex.” John whispered, turning off the lights.

Alex didn’t answer, already fast asleep.

* * *

  
  


When George entered the house, it was dead quiet. Silently closing the door, he walked into the living room. John, Lafayette, and Hercules were playing a game of cards on the coffee table.

Seeing George, John stood up to greet him. The others followed too.

“Alex is in your room taking a nap. He was pretty tired, couldn’t finish his bottle. The rest is in the fridge.” John told him.

“Was he okay today?” George asked.

“Yeah, we watched The Little Mermaid for a bit. Oh, and he drew this.” Hercules said, going back into the living room and returning with a piece of paper. He handed it to George.

He couldn’t make out what the drawing was. It was vaguely humanoid, maybe? Just because it wasn’t the best didn’t mean he didn’t love it, though.

“His fever went down with the Tylenol. He’s still a little warm, but that just might be the sweater.” John said.

“The sweater?”

“Oh yeah,” John said, smiling, “He saw one of your sweaters when we went into your room and decided that he wasn’t going to go to sleep until I put it on him. He still has his stubbornness, I’ll give him that.”

“That he does.” George agreed. “Thank you one last time for watching him. You can go now, I’ve got it from here.”

As the others collected their things, George walked upstairs and into the bedroom. The light was off, so he could only see by the faint light that the hallway provided. Alex was asleep in the middle of the bed, barely visible through the sweater that was engulfing him.

Kneeling next to the bed so he was eye level, George rubbed circles into his back to wake him up.

Slowly, Alex opened his eyes. Bleary with sleep, he looked at George and smiled when he saw him. “Dada?” He asked, reaching out at George. He couldn’t grab if he wanted to, the sweater sleeve easily three times the length of his arm.

“Hey, Alex.” He whispered. “I’m back.”

Alex cooed happily, a dopey smile on his face. His eyes closed again, and he stopped moving.

George smiled. Alex needed the sleep. It wasn’t too late, only nine, but George had had a long night too and sleep wasn’t something that he would say no to. Moving away from Alex, he went to get ready for bed.

Sliding under the blankets, he moved Alex from the center of the bed to where he was closer. He didn’t wake, just sighed and buried himself deeper into the ridiculously large sweater. The day had been difficult because he had had to leave Alex for the first time since this predicament, but today showed that they would be fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Are we moving too fast? Is it too soon for the father-son relationship?
> 
> me@me: we are 8 chapters in, almost 20,000 words have been written, we're almost halfway through the story, and u are the god of this fic, bitch i swear to god just fucking write
> 
> Catch me purposely updating this on February 29th just because the next time I'll be able to post on this date, I'll be in college. This would have been up earlier today, but my friend deemed it necessary to explain the entire plot of I Am Not Okay With This to me in a 2 hour long discussion because I decided not to watch it, and honestly Brad is such a bitch name. Guess he got his head exploded, so that's fun.
> 
> wrote the majority of this from 12-4 am yesterday, so that was fun. expect errors
> 
> Me 2 seconds after posting: cömméñtß? ÇŒMMÊÑT‽


	9. 7k Words of Alex Trying Everyone's Patience

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! I'm back on my bullshit with a new chapter, and it somehow turned out to be over 7,000 words. Oops.

“Be good, Alex.” George warned, handing him over to Eliza.

They had finally been on time that morning. No illness, no abductions, just a calm morning. George had to be at the White House by seven because of a meeting with the Iranian Ambassador that he had postponed until the situation with Alex was somewhat settled.

The only notable difficulty that morning was getting Alex ready.

For some reason, he had not changed back from his infant mindset since the night before. George had no idea what was causing him to switch between the two, but whatever it was, it hadn’t caused him to reverse. Thus, the process of getting him ready took much longer because he was trying to explore everything.

For two hours, George had to keep a constant eye on him because he would try and grab anything and everything. He almost had a heart attack when Alex had managed to grab a knife off the counter. He was put in his carrier after that, content to talk to his stuffed dog.

They arrived at Eliza’s, and after exchanging pleasantries with the second oldest Schuyler sister (Angelica and Peggy were still asleep upstairs), George warned her about Alex. She assured him that it wouldn’t be a problem, and took him from his carrier.

Alex made some noises in response to his name. He had his left hand intertwined in Eliza’s hair and the other hand was wandering, trying to explore his surroundings. He didn’t seem interested by the short conversation that George and Eliza had. Instead, he had stared up at George as if he wasn’t quite comprehending what was going on. When he was passed to Eliza, he started playing with her hair and had an open-mouthed look of fascination.

Eliza bounced him on her hip, earning a happy gurgle. “He will. We’ve got some things planned out, so he should be happy.” She moved him until they were face to face, “Isn’t that right, Alex. Do you want to have fun with us today?” she cooed.

Alex laughed, disentangling his hand from her hair and pressing it against her face.

George smiled softly at the scene in front of him. “I’m sure he will be. Call me if there’s any trouble.” Walking up until he was next to them, he ran his fingers through Alex’s soft hair. “I’ll see you later Alex.” When he tried to turn away, Alex grabbed his thumb and pulled him until they were face to face. “What is it?” he asked.

Alex leaned forward, only prevented from falling by Eliza’s strong grip, and kissed George’s forehead. At least, it was an attempt at a kiss. It was more like he smashed his face into George’s. He cooed happily, looking into George’s eyes with a childlike love so strong George wanted to pick him up and never let go. Instead, he kissed the top of his head. “I’ll see you in a few hours. I love you, Alex.” Alex only stared up at him with a huge smile.

Eliza pulled him closer until his head was resting on her shoulder and looked at where George was standing. He was looking at Alex with a look nothing short of paternal love. “You’re great for him.” she said, watching for his reaction. As she expected, he immediately withdrew from his spot and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I promised that I’d take care of him. It’s something anyone would have done.” he said, looking anywhere but Eliza’s eyes.

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Except it’s not. It’s obvious how much you care for him, and he loves you back.” she promised. As he opened his mouth to respond, she cut him off. “And don’t you say that he’s only acting this way because of his age, he has seen you as a father-figure since you hired him as Treasury Secretary three years ago. Isn’t that right, Alex?” she asked the little boy, turning around until he could face George. “Is he your dad?”

“Dadadada!” he said excitedly, clapping his hands together.

George relaxed again, smiling at Alex. “We’ll see once this is all fixed. Hopefully we can figure this out soon. If not, well, my second term is over in a few months and I’ll be able to take care of him until we can figure this out.” Walking back over to the door, he waved at Alex. “Bye, son. I’ll see you tonight.” As he stepped outside, he saw Alex waving his hand back and forth, staring at it as if he weren’t quite sure what exactly he was doing it for.

He only had five months left in office, and until then, he was going to do his best with what he was given. If that meant leaving Alex at his friend’s houses every day while he didn’t understand what was going on, then so be it.

* * *

When the door closed, Alex was still waving his hand. He would wave it slow, then fast, his eyes widening in fascination as he watched his fingers blur together. Amused, Eliza watched his motions for a minute. He was much more infantile than the first time she had met him, and she wasn’t sure what to think about that. In their brief discussion, George had explained how he was switching between an adult and childlike mindset, and there didn’t seem to be any reason for the switch. He said that he normally reverted back after a few minutes, but after he came home the day before he still hadn’t changed back.

“You ready to start the day Alex?” Eliza asked, breaking his concentration. He twisted back and blinked owlishly at her. He waved his hand again, trying to show her what he had discovered. “That’s very cool!” she praised, smiling at the way his face lit up.

She walked them both over to the kitchen, grabbing the diaper bag. “Are you hungry, Alex?” she asked, pulling the formula out of the bag. “Your dad said you haven’t eaten yet.”

Alex perked up at the mention of George. “Dada?” he asked hopefully. Eliza held back a smirk at the name. They both denied it, but the father-son relationship between those two was obvious, even to those who didn’t know them. There was no way she was letting this go when he was back to an adult. “Yeah Alex, Dada. He also told me that you like this!” She gave an exaggerated gasp and pulled out the stuffed dog.

Alex squealed in delight and reached out for it. Once Eliza handed it over, he got a very serious look on his face and started babbling unintelligibly, obviously trying to get Eliza to understand something very important. The only word she caught was Dada, and guessed that it was probably something George gave him. She nodded along, moving around the kitchen to prepare his bottle. She had something else she wanted to try, but wanted to wait for Peggy and Angelica to wake up because they had come up with the idea together.

Speak of the devil, at that moment, Peggy appeared in the entryway. Dressed in a yellow tank top and sweatpants, she was smirking at Alex, who had not yet noticed the new person. “Look who’s talking.” she said, moving into the kitchen. Alex jumped and whipped his head around to find the new person. When his eyes locked on Peggy, he squealed and clapped. “Do you want me to take him so you can make breakfast?” she asked Eliza, still not taking her eyes off of Alex, whose attention was once again focused on his hands. It appeared that he had discovered that clapping did the same thing as waving, and he was alternating between the two.

“That would be great.” Eliza said, carefully passing him over to Peggy. 

Peggy situated him until she could look at him. “Whatcha doing?”

Alex gasped, apparently only now noticing that he was no longer with Eliza. He immediately started waving his hand to show her what he had learned. “Wow!” she exclaimed, going along with it, “That’s so cool! Do you want to see something?” Alex only stared up at her, smiling widely at her praise. “Yo, ‘liza!” Peggy called, “Pass me that pencil!”

Eliza, long since past questioning Peggy’s motives, tossed the pencil over. Holding the end, she let Alex grab onto it. “See how it’s straight? Now watch.” she said, carefully waving it until it looked like it was bending. Alex watched, wide-eyed at the motion. He grabbed the pencil from her and shook it back and forth. “Slowly,” she said, taking his hand and guiding him, “You’ve gotta go slow for it to work.”

Alex, guided by Peggy’s hand, waved it until it appeared to bend. Taking his momentary distraction, she focused on Eliza. “I thought he was still an adult?” she asked.

Eliza turned away from the stove and took out three plates. “George said he normally is, but sometimes he is like this. He doesn’t know why, but he’s been like this since yesterday. Hopefully he’ll change back soon, but I honestly have no idea.”

As if on cue, Alex dropped the pencil and looked up at Peggy with recognition that he didn’t have seconds before. “You back?” she asked. Alex looked dazed, but nodded. He took in his surroundings, and turned questioning to Peggy. “You’re at our house for the day. We’ve got some stuff planned for you!”

Alex leaned back with concern in his eyes at Peggy’s mischievous tone. He squeaked when another pair of hands grabbed him from behind, lifting him over Peggy’s head and into another pair of arms. “Ignore her Hamilton, she’s just trying to freak you out.”

Peggy gasped in mock offence. “Me? Freak Alex out? I thought we were friends Angie!”

Angelica hummed, unimpressed with her sister’s acting. “Aren’t you supposed to be in school?”

Peggy stood up from her chair and hopped on the counter. “It’s a day off, remember? I thought you were supposed to know everything.”

Angelica didn’t respond, choosing to instead focus on Alex. “Good morning, Hamilton.”

Alex opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by the growling of his stomach. He turned red and hid his face in his hands. “It’s okay.” Angelica promised. “Has he eaten yet?” she asked, going up to Eliza.

“No, he just got here about twenty minutes ago. Breakfast is ready, though, so go ahead and grab some.” Eliza said, whisking him away from Angelica and strapping him into the carrier. He looked offended at first, but was quickly distracted by the bottle that was offered.

The sisters didn’t go to the dining room. Instead, they opted to eat their breakfast in the kitchen, making idle talk and watching Alex.

Alex was struggling to keep his grip on the bottle. He would bring it up to his mouth, drink a little, then drop it when he relaxed. He began to whine in distress, slipping back into his infant mindset. He was getting frustrated at the failure, and Eliza took pity on him.

Setting her plate in the dishwasher, she picked up Alex and put the tip of the bottle in his mouth. He seemed happy with the situation, and his whines were replaced with happy burbling. He seemed oblivious to the look Angelica, Peggy, and Eliza shared above his head.

“Hey Pegs, look in the bag and see if you can find a pacifier.” Angelica said.

Alex, apparently still somewhat an adult, pushed away the bottle the best he could and babbled angrily. When Peggy approached with the pacifier, he whipped his head from side to side.

“Hey!” Eliza exclaimed, “Do you want to do something fun?”

Alex stopped shaking his head and looked up at Eliza, his distress outweighed by his curiosity.

“We’re going to paint!” she said. Alex squirmed in her arms until she moved him upright. “But first, we want to put your pacifier in so you don’t get paint near your mouth. Is that okay?” she asked.

Alex looked conflicted, torn between his adult side that didn’t want the pacifier and the child side that wanted to play with paints. After a second of hesitation, he opened his mouth.

“Nice,” Peggy said, popping the pacifier in, “now we can continue with our experiments.”

Alex once again looked alarmed at Peggy’s words, and looked between the other two for clarification. Eliza looked amused, and Angelica just rolled her eyes.

“Ignore her, Hamilton,” Angelica said, taking him from Eliza’s arms and setting him on her hip, “she’s just a dumbass.” She ignored the protest from Peggy.” We’re not going to do anything to you.” Bouncing him, she bent down and opened a cabinet. Inside, paints, brushes, paper, and oversized T-shirts were stuffed haphazardly in the corner. She grabbed a few of each, and stood back up. “You ready to paint?” she asked, turning around to face the rest of the kitchen.

Eliza was on the floor, taping down newspapers. Peggy was standing precariously on the counter, grabbing cups to fill with water. Alex was looking at the scene, practically buzzing with excitement.

“Let’s put this shirt on you.” Gently setting him down on the newspapered floor, Angelica slipped the shirt over him. It was the smallest one they had, saved from when Peggy was around five, but it was still ridiculously large on him. He waved his arms wildly, watching as the fabric swung around. The pacifier, which was previously in his mouth, had been knocked onto the floor.

Plopping down in front of them, Peggy set down the water cups. “You look like a ghost.” she teased, pinching the excess fabric. “Boo!”

Alex laughed and clapped his hands together excitedly. “‘oo! ‘oo!”

Peggy snorted at his imitation, grabbing the pacifier and washing it off in the sink. “You’re like a parrot. I wonder what else I can teach you.” She put it back in Alex’s mouth, this time with no protest.

“Peggy-” Angelica warned.

“Relax Angie, I won’t teach him anything bad.” She winked at Alex.

“Uh huh,” Angelica said, disbelieving. “Are you ready Eliza?”

Eliza, who had been setting up the paints, sat down in front of them. “Yep. Let’s go over some rules first.” She pulled Alex into her lap. “First, don’t eat the paint. Please, I really don’t want to explain that to George.”

Alex didn’t say anything, just nodded. That was good, at least. He seemed to still somewhat have his adult mind at the moment, so he’d probably exercise some common sense when it came to the painting, and more importantly, not eating it. Then again, it was Alex, so who knew.

“Second, don’t take the paint off of the newspaper. Okay?” Alex nodded again.

“Cool, that’s all I have to say. Let’s get you started.” Eliza set him down in front of a tray that had red, blue, and yellow paint on it.

Alex carefully reached forward and grabbed a brush. He held it in his fist in a way that would have made his older self cringe, and shoved it in the blue paint. With a look of utmost concentration, he clumsily swiped it across the paper. When he saw the blue streak, he looked up at the sisters.

“Good job!” Eliza encouraged, and he went back to painting.

Angelica, Peggy, and Eliza grabbed their own papers and started painting. Peggy moved over until she was next to Alex, and would whisper in his ear occasionally until he would giggle.

After about thirty minutes, the inevitable happened. Leaning forward to dip his brush in paint, Alex accidentally tipped over too far and fell on the tray. There was a moment of silence as all four stood still, not quite sure how to process it.

The silence was broken by Peggy, who burst into laughter at the sight of a paint-covered Alex. “Oh my God-” she wheezed, doubling over with laughter, “That was great!”

Alex, who wasn’t as amused with his situation as Peggy, reached up with his red and blue hand and smeared the paint on her cheek. Peggy gasped in mock anger and poked his nose, leaving a yellow dot.

Before they could continue, Angelica and Eliza snapped out of their shock. “Okay, that’s enough.” Eliza said, pulling Alex up and holding him out at arms length. The front of the shirt was covered with paint, but it didn’t protect all of him from the mess. His neck, his arms, his face- “You need a bath.” she decided.

That got a reaction from Alex. He wiggled in her arms, forcing her to pull him close to her chest to avoid dropping him. “No no no no no no no!” he yelled, pushing against her. His words were garbled by the pacifier, which had miraculously stayed in throughout the paint fiasco.

“You’re a mess,” she sighed, “so this is not an option.”

Alex wrinkled his nose and didn’t stop moving. Carrying him up the stairs, followed by the other two, she walked into the guest bathroom. “Stay.” Eliza warned, setting him down on the tile to start the water. Alex just spit out his pacifier and stuck out his tongue.

After a couple minutes, Eliza poured a bottle in the water. When Alex stretched his neck to see what she had put in the water, she only said, “You’ll see.”

When she finally deemed the water ready, Eliza took off the shirt. Thankfully, it had protected his onesie from ruin. “Lay down, Alex.”

Alex didn’t respond. He glared at Angelica and Peggy, who were standing in the doorway. Getting the hint, Peggy turned around and Angelica left.

Eliza undressed him and placed him in the water. His eyes widened when he saw the bubbles. Cautiously, he grabbed a few. Eyes wide, he raised his hand to show Eliza.

“Wow!” she exclaimed. “Do you want to show her?” she asked, pointing towards where Peggy was still facing away. Her other hand was pressed against his back to keep him from slipping. Sitting obviously didn’t keep him from falling over.

Alex made incoherent noises and splashed the water. Peggy walked up to the tub and kneeled. “Show me what?”

Alex gasped and grabbed a handful of bubbles. With a huge smile, he presented them to Peggy like it was the first time he had ever seen them.

Peggy grabbed more and stacked them on his head. “Now you look like one of those old dudes that wrote some document, cheated on his wife, and got shot.”

Alex huffed out a laugh and put the bubbles in her hair.

Eliza smiled fondly at the scene in front of her. “It looks like you two are fine. I’m going to go get lunch ready, when he’s completely paint-free, take him downstairs.”

Peggy turned and mock-saluted. “Yes ma’am.”

* * *

Ten minutes later, Peggy walked down the stairs carrying a clean Alex. Peggy, on the other hand, still had paint on her cheek and her shirt was soaked. The paint was gone, and the only evidence in the kitchen of the mess were their paintings sitting on the counter. As soon as Peggy walked in, Angelica took Alex.

“I thought Alex took a bath, not you.” Eliza teased.

“It would have been that way if _somebody_ hadn’t decided to splash.” Peggy grumbled.

Alex laughed innocently.

“Sure, whatever you say. Are you ready to try some new foods Hamilton?” Angelica asked, setting him down in his carrier. Reaching into the diaper bag, she pulled out a bib and fastened it around his neck. Alex only looked slightly confused when Eliza set down six jars.

“George said you were tired of eggs and formula.” Eliza explained, opening up the first jar. “We decided to try baby food. Open up.” Eliza scooped out a small amount onto a spoon and held it up to his mouth.

Alex opened his mouth slightly, just enough so Eliza could slip the spoon in. As soon as the carrots touched his tongue, his face contorted into a grimace. Spitting out the spoon, it became apparent that the bib was going to come in handy. The carrots were smeared around his mouth and dripping off his chin. “No!”

Eliza sighed, putting the lid back on the jar. “Yeah, I got that.” She used the bib to wipe off the orange mess, and opened the next one.

They went through four more jars, each one ending the same way. At one point, Eliza could have sworn he was doing it to spite her.

“Okay, this is the last jar. If you don’t like it, I don’t know what to tell you.” Eliza said. She popped open the jar of sweet potatoes and bananas. They had grabbed it off the shelf at Walmart not because they thought he would like it, but to see his reaction. There was no chance he would enjoy the strange combination, but they had no other flavors.

Angelica and Peggy watched with trepidation as Eliza raised the spoon to his mouth. They had both moved away from the carrier after Alex had spit out the peas so forcefully that it had hit Eliza directly in her face.

Alex scrunched his nose when he smelled the food and turned his head away. It smeared across his cheek, leaving a trail of yellow.

“Come on, just one bite, it won’t be that bad!” Eliza promised.

Alex didn’t listen, just clenched his jaw in a childlike way that very clearly meant _no way in hell am I eating that._

Eliza thought for a minute, pulling back the spoon. Alex clearly thought he had won the argument, and had turned his attention to playing in the mess that was his bib. An idea popped up in her head, and she tapped Alex’s hand to get his attention.

He turned his head back to her, glaring at the spoon she still held. Darting her hand forward, she poked his stomach.

Whether from the shock of being tickled or the indignation of it, Alex opened his mouth. Using her other hand, she slipped the spoon in. Alex looked shocked at what she had done, and Eliza was prepared to catch another face of baby food. Instead, he hesitantly closed his mouth around the spoon and had an indecipherable look. Carefully, she took it back out and with glee she saw that it was clean.

After a second, she saw him swallow and open his mouth again.

“Yes!” Peggy exclaimed, hopping down from her perch on the counter.

Angelica, however, had an incredulous look on her face. “ _Sweet potatoes and bananas? That’s what you decided that you like? What the fuck Hamilton?”_

Alex only laughed and ate another spoonful.

“You are a weird kid, I hope you know that.” Peggy said, picking up the jar and wrinkling her nose at the ingredients.

Eliza snorted. “You have no room to speak. You ate paint when you were his age.”

“I did not!”

“You absolutely did. Almost gave Dad a heart attack when he found you surrounded by empty paint bottles.” Angelica agreed, playfully shoving her.

Alex looked up with bright eyes. “Dada?”

“Not yours, ours.” Eliza explained.

“Who’s he talking about?” Angelica asked, confused.

“George,” Peggy supplied, “who he finally admitted to being his father.”

Angelica gasped. “Really? I thought those two were too emotionally constipated to do anything but look at each other forlornly. How?” If she was being honest, the only reason she was certain that Hamilton was not George’s biological son was because the two had absolutely no physical similarities.

Eliza explained what George had told her, adding in some information she had gained from watching the two.

Alex continued eating happily, bored with the conversation after they had stopped talking directly to him. The jar slowly emptied, and finally he refused another spoonful.

Grabbing a towel because the bib was too dirty to do any good, Eliza gently wiped the food off of his mouth. “You’re a mess, you know that right?” she teased.

Alex gave a wide smile. His toothless grin was nothing like his adult-self’s smile. Where 23 year old Alexander Hamilton’s smiles were always slightly forced and never seemed completely real, this smile was so bright and genuine Eliza wanted to hold him tight, to prevent the pain that would turn him cynical and distrusting.

Peggy didn’t share the same sentiments. “I’m calling you Toothless from now on.” She grabbed Alex from his seat and propped him against her hip, supporting his head. She gave him the stuffed dog and he pushed his face into it. She snorted when he raised his head again, making a face and sticking his tongue out, trying to get rid of the fur that had gotten in his mouth.

“Don’t be mean, Peggy.” Angelica said, grabbing the mostly full jars and setting them back on the counter.

Alex didn’t seem to mind Peggy’s teasing. He grabbed her ear and babbled happily.

“I’m not being mean, he loves it!”

“If you mean the only reason he hasn’t killed you by now is because he doesn’t understand a word we’re saying.”

“You are absolutely wrong Angie. You love the name, don’t you Toothless?” Peggy gasped, an idea forming in her head. “You know what we should do? We should get Hercules to make you a Toothless costume for Halloween!”

Eliza laughed, “Actually, that would be kind of cute.”

“Would he have time to do it? Halloween’s next month,” Angelica said.

“I’m sure he could, but let me ask.” Eliza took out her phone to text him.

“You’re gonna be a dragon for Halloween. Can you growl?” Peggy’s face scrunched up and she pretended to growl.

Alex responded by shoving the stuffed dog the best he could in her face. She cringed when a wet spot where Alex had got the fur in his mouth was pressed directly on her mouth. “Does the dog have a name?” she asked. Alex only stared blankly back.

“George didn’t say anything about a name.” Eliza said, coming back from the bathroom fresh-faced and no longer covered in pureéd carrot.

“Let’s fix that!” Without another word, Peggy shot off into the living room with Alex.

Angelica shared a concerned look with Eliza. “Should we go see?”

Eliza shook her head. “No, Alex seems to love her. Let’s clean up first, then we’ll deal with the collateral damage of Peggy’s plans.”

* * *

When they came into the living room, Peggy was sitting on the floor with Alex in her lap. She was holding a book in one hand, and making animated gestures with the other. Alex looked at the pages with fascination.

“Did you decide on a name?” Angelica asked, sitting down beside them.

They both jumped at her sudden presence. “Jesus! Warn a woman Angie!”

“Sorry.” Angelica said, not sounding very apologetic.

Peggy rolled her eyes and shook her head. "No, he hated all my ideas for some reason."

"And what were your ideas?"

"Peggy Jr., Beezlebub, Greg. He didn't like any of them!"

"I wonder why. What're you reading?"

Peggy raised the book away from Alex, who was trying to grab it from her. “It’s A Book for Benny! I found it shoved beside the encyclopedias, for some reason.” Alex whined when he realized that she had stopped reading. “Yeah, yeah, I hear you. Where were we? Oh yeah, “What about this one Benny? Benny turned away from the window-””

They sat there while Peggy read, Eliza joining them. Alex was entranced, occasionally pressing his hand against the book when he wanted her to explain something. Peggy did with patience, talking about the librarian, fence, and even the tree. He seemed to especially love the dog Benny, pointing him out on every page. By the time the book was over, all four of them were smiling.

“Did you like the book?” Peggy asked, pushing herself off the floor. The movement dislodged the stuffed dog, who had laid forgotten on her lap as Alex focused on the book. When it fell, though, it caught his attention once more. He urgently reached out for it and babbled loudly _directly_ in her ear.

“Chill Toothless, I’m grabbing it.” When she passed it to him, he pushed the dog against the book that was still in her hand.

“Bee! Bee!” Alex yelled.

“Bee?” Eliza asked.

“Bee!” Alex was bouncing now, making it harder for Peggy to keep her grip. Angelica and Eliza moved closer, just in case.

“I’m gonna drop you if you don’t quit it,” she warned.

Alex paid her no mind. “Bee!”

“Beezlebub?”

“Benny?” Angelica tried.

Alex whipped his head around to face her, stopping his bouncing. Struggling, he pulled the dog out from between him and Peggy and showed her. “Bee!” 

“Oh,” Eliza breathed, “his name is Benny?”

Alex smiled at her, giggling. He leaned forward towards Eliza, disregarding the fact that Peggy was still holding him.

With a yelp, he fell forward and into Eliza’s arms. The shock wore off, and he pushed Benny in her face the way he had with Peggy.

“I see him,” she said through a mouth-full of fur.

That seemed to placate Alex, because his head dropped to her chest and he hugged Benny. He yawned, making a squeak.

“I think he’s tired.” Eliza said. She looked at the clock. It was 2 already, George would be back in a few hours. “I’m going to go lay him down in the guest room.”

Peggy and Angelica nodded, sitting down on the couch. Peggy grabbed the remote and started flipping through channels, quietly bickering with Angelica.

Eliza walked upstairs and to the guest room. It wasn’t huge, but the queen-sized bed would hopefully be big enough to keep Alex from rolling off. “You ready to take a nap Alex?” she whispered.

He looked up at her with hazy eyes and mumbled something she couldn’t hear.

Standing next to the bed, she swayed gently. Humming, she ran her fingers through his hair. Within a minute, his breathing had evened out and he was fast asleep.

Silently, she shut the door and went downstairs.

* * *

They had been in the middle of a F.R.I.E.N.D.S episode when a wail from upstairs caused them all to jump. 

Alex had been asleep for the past two hours, still laying where Eliza had set him down when she went to check on him. George had texted 15 minutes ago, saying that he was on his way. Everything had been going smoothly, which was precisely why something had to go wrong.

They were off the couch and bolting up the stairs immediately. Had he fallen off the bed? Was he hurt? 

Bursting into the room, they saw Alex still on the bed. Benny was on the floor beside the bed. His small frame was shaking with the force of his sobs. Tears were running down his face.

Eliza rushed forward to pick him up, but when she reached down, Alex _screamed._

It wasn’t a sound they ever wanted to hear again. The sound was pure terror, and they had no idea why.

Eliza stepped back, and Alex went back to crying.

“What do we do?” Peggy asked, panic clear in her voice.

“I don’t know! Why is he reacting like that?” Angelica asked.

Eliza ran her fingers through her hair. “He won’t let me pick him up but I can’t leave him there like that. Should I call George?”

Angelica shook her head. “No, he’s on his way and the last thing we want is for him to crash going 120 on the freeway just to get here faster.”

“Right. We need to figure out why he’s crying first.” Eliza watched Alex, whose cries had quieted somewhat but were no less forceful.

“Okay, so he was crying when we got up here.” Peggy said, ticking it off on her finger.

“So maybe it’s because he was here alone?”

Peggy nodded. “Maybe. Has he ever slept in here before?”

Eliza shook her head. “No, this room used to be storage. I just turned it into a guest room a couple months ago.”

“Okay, so he woke up alone in a new room in the dark. That’s probably the problem.”

Angelica still had a look of confusion. “That still doesn’t explain why he reacted that way to Eliza. It’s not like she-” Realization dawned on her face. “He didn’t recognize her.”

It clicked in their heads. Alex had woken up in a dark, unfamiliar room alone. Someone had tried to pick him up, and he had panicked. Especially so soon after-

Peggy let out a groan. “Damn, we fucked up bad.”

“I can’t just leave him there and let him work himself up even more,” Eliza said. Carefully, she made her way back into the room. She opened the door further to let the hallway light spill in and slowly walked towards Alex.

When he saw her, about 3 feet away, his wails picked up again. Eliza immediately started up a stream of low chatter, quietly whispering “You’re okay, Alex” and “Everything’s just fine, isn’t it?” until she was standing next to him. Her quiet reassurances had worked, and Alex was no longer tense, though he was still crying.

Gingerly, Eliza slid her hands underneath him and lifted him to her shoulder. As soon as he was cradled, his hands clutched her shirt and he buried his face in the crook of her neck. His tears had slowed, though not stopped, and his trembles had lessened to occasional hiccups.

Cautiously, she turned towards her sisters. Peggy gave a thumbs up and a grin, and Angelica nodded. She swayed in place, hoping that the motion would lull him back to sleep.

From downstairs, a faint knock at the door told them that George had finally arrived. Angelica pointed towards the stairs and mouthed, “I’ll go get him.”

Eliza nodded, relieved. As much as she could deal with, a traumatized baby was out of her league. She could do nothing but stand there, gently rubbing his back and whispering reassurances. Her neck was wet with tears, but he was just sniffling.

A minute later, the door carefully opened, letting in the light from the hallway. George walked in, and Eliza immediately lifted Alex away from her shoulder to hand him over.

Alex whined quietly and gripped onto her shirt, new tears welling in his eyes and hip lower lip wobbling. He squeaked when a large pair of hands grabbed him from behind, but when George turned him around he latched onto his shirt collar. “ _Dadadadada-”_

George held him tight, slightly bouncing. “It’s alright, I’m here sweetheart.” He gently hushed him, running his left hand through his hair, “I’m back, you’re okay.”

Eliza lightly knocked on the doorframe to get his attention. “I’ll be in the living room,” she whispered.

George nodded, a tired but appreciative smile on his face. “We’ll be down soon.”

Eliza smiled and made her way downstairs.

\----

When George had arrived, he hadn’t expected to be met by Angelica. She quickly explained that Alex forgot where he was, and wouldn’t let anyone come near him. Eliza had managed to pick him up, soothing his wails by talking to him. After she had explained, she pointed to the room Alex was in. Wasting no time, he hurried up the stairs and slowly opened the door.

Inside, the lights were off and Eliza was swaying. Her soft whispering was occasionally interrupted by his small hiccuping cries. She looked up when she saw the door open, and a relieved smile washed over her face.

She moved to hand him over, but his small fists were tightly gripping her shirt. He whined, still having not seen George.

George stepped forward and gently grabbed him. Alex squeaked and started trembling at the unfamiliar grip. George quickly turned him around, and when Alex saw that it was him he relaxed and leaned into his touch. “ _Dadadadada-_ ”

George brought him to his chest and attempted to sooth him, rubbing circles into his back. “It’s alright, I’m here sweetheart. I’m back, you’re okay.” He bounced him slightly. “Shhh, you’re okay.”

A quiet knock brought his attention to Eliza, who was standing in the doorway with a small smile on her face. “I’ll be in the living room,” she whispered.

George nodded gratefully, “We’ll be down soon.” When she left the doorway, he turned his attention back to Alex.

“Hey honey, what’s wrong?” he cooed. Spotting the stuffed dog, he reached down and brought it up to Alex. “Do you want him sweetheart?”

Lifting his head off of his shoulder, Alex spotted the dog. He practically lunged forward, burying his face in the fur. “Whoa, careful honey,” George said, adjusting his grip to account for the shift in weight.

“Bee!” George heard him quietly say. He watched as Alex nuzzled into the soft dog, his heart melting. A small smile had finally come to his face as he pet the dog.

“Bee? Is that his name?” George asked.

Alex turned his attention back to him. He hugged the dog so it was between them, and smiled widely. “Bee!”

It was like the past half hour hadn’t happened. His face was still slightly red and his cheeks still had tear tracks, but his open-mouthed smile and bright eyes revealed none of the fear that had been there just minutes before. It almost gave George whiplash, how fast he could change around. “I see him. His name is Bee?”

Alex giggled happily, one hand pressed against his face.”Beeeeeee!”

George laughed softly, “Okay, Bee it is. Let’s go see the Schuyler’s, okay Alex?”

Alex only continued giggling and bouncing in his arms. “Beebeebeebeebee!”

George walked downstairs and into the living room. The sisters were sitting dejectedly on the couches, whispering between each other, but looked shocked when George walked in with Alex happily babbling and bouncing.

“How?” Eliza asked in disbelief.

“I have no idea,” George admitted, “I just gave him the dog and it was like flipping a switch.”

“Bee!” Alex said happily.

Peggy snorted, “Of course it was Benny.”  
  


“Benny?”

“The dog,” Angelica clarified. “We read him a book with a dog named Benny and he started calling it that.”

George turned his attention back to Alex. “Is his name Benny?” Alex squealed and renewed his bouncing. “What book was it?” he asked.

Eliza grabbed the book off the shelf and walked over to them. “A Book For Benny. Here, you can take it,” she said, handing it to George, “It’s just been collecting dust on the bookshelf.”

When Eliza pulled her arm back, Alex grabbed her sleeve. He leaned forward towards her suddenly, and George had no other choice than to pass him over to avoid dropping him. “Alex, I’m going to drop you one of these times.”

Alex paid him no mind, instead hooking his fingers around Eliza’s bracelet. She took it off her wrist and slid it onto his.

“He really just did a 180,” Angelica said.

“I don’t know why,” George said, ignoring the pointed look from Eliza. “Did he behave today?”

“He was great! We painted, read a book, tried some new food- Oh, speaking of which,” Eliza said, passing Alex over to Peggy, who had caught his attention by making faces, “he likes sweet potatoes and bananas.”

“What?”

“We bought some new baby food, and the only one that didn’t result in Eliza getting a facial were the sweet potatoes and bananas.” Peggy said, pulling the bracelet away from where Alex had repeatedly been trying to put it in his mouth. “Not in your mouth!” She grabbed the pacifier from off the coffee table and pushed it in his mouth. “You’re like a little Sunny Baudelaire.”

“Was he an adult at all today?” George asked, concerned. He had been researching in all his spare time, trying to find out what could have caused this. He had even put Burr on the case, but so far they had found nothing. If he completely lost his adult mind, he didn’t know what consequences that would have if -when- he was reversed.

“A couple times,” Eliza said, sensing his unease, “During breakfast and when I gave him a bath. It didn’t last more than a few minutes.”

“Why did he need a bath?”

“He fell in the paint.” Angelica said, walking in. She was holding the diaper bag, and she set it down by the door.

“Of course he did,” George sighed, exasperated. He watched Alex, who was burbling quietly and passing the bracelet from his arm to Peggy’s. It would roll midway up her forearm then all the way to his shoulder.

“He’s a mess at every age. At least this time was better than the time he tripped in wet concrete.” Angelica said, taking the book from George and putting it in the bag.

“He _what?”_

“In college, he was reading some new book he got- What was it?”

“The Common Law.” Eliza supplied.

“The Common Law, right. Anyway, he walked straight past the cones and fell face first into the concrete.”

Eliza sighed, crossing her arms. “It took me five hours to get the concrete out of his hair.”

“And the only thing he was mad about was the book.”

George laughed. “He really hasn’t changed.”

“No, he definitely has.” Eliza smiled softly. “He’s been happier these past couple years than he has in the decade I’ve known him.”

George chose not to speak. Instead, he watched as he grew bored in Peggy’s hold, grabbing onto her ear and pulling.

“Ow! What are you doing?” Peggy asked, trying to free her ear from his grasp. Alex bounced on her lap and reached up for her other ear. “No, you can’t hurt that one too.” She lifted him until he was standing on her thighs, all of his weight supported by her hands around his waist. 

Alex shrieked with laughter, grabbing the top of her head and excitedly bounced up and down. He pushed on the top of Peggy’s head, ignoring her grumbling, and looked over at George. When he made eye contact, he babbled loudly around the pacifier. He bounced faster, almost kneeing Peggy in her nose.

George walked over and saved her. He picked Alex up and propped him on his hip, letting him reach up and grab his ear. “You’ve got quite a grip,” he winced, shifting him further up. “Are you ready to go home?” Alex burbled, more focused on pulling on his ear, apparently.

Eliza walked up and hugged them. “We’ll see you again next time. Bye Alex!”

“Thank you again for watching him.” George said, adjusting his grip so he could hold the bag with his other arm.

“There’s no thanks needed. It’s always great seeing you two.”

“Blackmail material!” Peggy called from the couch.

“Peggy, no.” Angelica said.

“Peggy yes!” she countered, pushing up from the couch and walking over to the others. “Adios Toothless.” She waved her hand in front of Alex’s face, and he pushed his face into it. “You’re like a cat.”

Angelica pulled her sister back and walked them to the door. “We’ll see you on Monday.”

“Say bye, Alex,” George said. He picked up the diaper bag and stepped out the door. He waved to the Schuylers, and when he saw what George was doing, Alex energetically copied. He buckled Alex into his seat, and started the car.

* * *

“Put that down- No, don’t- Alex, I swear-”

Alex had more energy when they got home than George was able to handle. It seemed like every time he turned around, Alex would reach for something dangerous. After pulling him away from the power outlet, George decided to just take him to his room and put him on the bed. He could get some work done, and hopefully Alex would calm down.

“Beebeebeebeebeebee-”

“Okay, let me grab him.” George said, exhausted. He reached down and grabbed Benny from where he had been dropped. Alex was squirming on the bed, grabbing his feet and babbling loudly. When George placed Benny on his chest, he squealed and flailed out like a starfish. He hugged the dog, and talked to him in animated tones.

George soon realized that his plan wasn’t working, and Alex had no plans to calm down. “Alright, you know what? I’m going to read you a book,” he said, picking up the giggling Alex, “Maybe then you’ll stop acting like you’ve drank a pot of coffee."

He went downstairs with Alex, not trusting him to not roll off the bed in his absence, and grabbed the book Eliza had given him. They walked into George’s study, and sat down in the rocking chair. Gently rocking, he opened the book and started reading.

At first, Alex had no interest in the book. He kept twisting around, arms swinging wildly and hitting the book a couple times. He settled down after a few minutes, realizing that it was the book from earlier. He repeated what he had done with Peggy, splaying his hand across the pages until George explained the details in the drawings. He did so with care, talking in a low voice about the different books Benny was looking at. He felt Alex slowly relax, until he was finally asleep. Setting the book down on his desk, he carefully lifted him and walked to the make-shift nursery.

When he was set down in the crib, Alex didn’t stir. He unconsciously gripped Benny, and pulled his hand up to rest above his head. Gently, George pulled the blanket up. Alex huffed quietly in his sleep. The dinosaurs on his onesie were barely visible by the faint glow of the nightlight.

“Goodnight, Alex,” George whispered. He reached down and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. Alex leaned into the touch subconsciously. George gave a soft smile and quietly left the room, shutting the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been over 2 months, so I'm sorry. I thought I would have more time, but my teachers don't understand that just because we're home doesn't mean they can assign more than they did before the quarantine. Plus, I had my AP exam (which let me turn it in, thank fuck) so I've been panicking over that. My updates are going to have a bit more time in between them (not 2 months, maybe like a week), so things should be going back to normal.
> 
> Stay safe out there! Wash your hands, wear a mask, don't drink bleach or shove a lamp anywhere unsavory, and stay inside. We'll get through this eventually. Love y'all!


	10. Not a Chapter, Unfortunately

Hey! I'm sorry for this, but I will be going on a hiatus for this story. I don't have any motivation right now, and this hanging in the back of my mind is not at all encouraging. This is NOT a discontinuation (I'm unable to quit things) but it is on a break for now. Thank you for being patient with me, stay safe!


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